


Something in the way

by momentofclarity



Category: Hope Floats (1998), One Direction (Band)
Genre: 90's AU, Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Divorce, Falling In Love, Family Drama, First Love, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Heartbreak, Homophobic Language, Hope Floats AU, Louis has a kid (how very AU), M/M, Past Infidelity (not between Louis and Harry), Pining, Romantic Drama Extravaganza, Smut, Soul-Searching, Starting Over, alcohol drinking, minor (very minor) character death (they go to a funeral but it's not a major part of the story)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 20:51:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 40,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13532307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momentofclarity/pseuds/momentofclarity
Summary: Then he looks up and is met by the greenest eyes on this side of the state border. Harry Styles grins wildly at him, dimple deep in his cheek as his eyes sparkle.Hope Floats 90’s AU. When Louis Tomlinson finds out his wife is cheating on him with his best friend, he packs up his life and takes his daughter back to his childhood hometown to start anew. The problem is—he’s not so sure he’s moving forwards rather than backwards. What he finds in the small Texas town is a whole lot of memories, people who think they still know him and a man who’s spent the past decade waiting for his return.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Some notes to start this thing off folks!
> 
> This is an AU of the 90’s movie Hope Floats. Parts of the story and dialogue are borrowed/taken/inspired from/by the movie and obviously all the credit of that goes to the moviemakers and not me. This is my tweaked interpretation of what happens when you put broken hearts, life long pining, silly jokes and a whole lot of love into one pile.
> 
> The title is from the song Something in the way by Nicolai Dunger. I’ve listened to it 24/7 while writing this.
> 
> This story in no way reflects my ideas or beliefs of the real life people Louis and Harry. The reason this fic came to be is because I couldn’t stop yelling about Harry Styles in double denim. Blame jean shirts and white Stetsons please.
> 
> I would also like to say I have never been to Texas, not now and not in the 90’s. Please consider this version of Texas very much an AU one. A bit to the left of actual Texas. Sorry for any and all inaccuracies anyhow.
> 
> I realize that the tags make this sound like the biggest angst fest of the century, but I promise you it’s not! THIS IS A FEEL GOOD STORY! Erhm. With (quite) “a bit” of angst. If anyone has any questions about any of the tags, please feel free to come talk to me about it!
> 
> Thank you so much to my best friend and beta, Lois. You introduced me to this movie that I now love (and slightly despise) with my whole entire heart. Thank you for always encouraging me, for making me feel like a star, for helping me sort out my head and for being you. I love you always and forever. Eternity and so on.
> 
> Thank you to the most incredible and sharp beta in the world, [Nic](http://louandhazaf.tumblr.com/). Thanks for always pointing me in the right direction and making me want to be fair to the characters and the story itself. I love you to the moon and back and will never get over my luck to have found you!
> 
> A very special thanks to [Tanya](http://curleduphl.tumblr.com/) for making the absolutely breathtaking art for this fic! It’s been an absolute pleasure to work with you and you’ve made me cry so many times with the magic you create. Thank you for being so inspirational and lovely! <3
> 
> Thank you to my friends and all other lovely people who encourage and inspire me to keep on writing. Every comment, every time you listen to me whine, every kind word and incoherent scream means the world to me. Thank you!
> 
> Let’s go to Texas! (the one a bit to the left)

The day Louis Tomlinson’s whole world falls apart is a cruelly sunny Thursday. He got off from work an hour early and made the effort to pick up his daughter’s favorite cookies at the bakery. With his mind filled with images of a nice dinner and then cuddling up on the sofa with his family, he opens the door to his house. Since it’s his wife’s turn to pick up Miles from her friend’s house, he considers starting dinner and surprising them with the family favorite—lasagna. 

He makes his way through the house and into the kitchen, checking through the mail when he hears a noise from upstairs. Furrowing his forehead, his mind starts whirring with thoughts of what it could be. Did they leave any of the windows open last night? Did a bird find its way inside or did the wind simply knock something over? He climbs the stairs and heads towards the master bedroom. Not knowing what’s waiting on the other side, he carefully pushes the door open. 

In a matter of seconds Louis’ mind blanks and adrenaline shoots through his veins at lightning speed. Before him is his wife, on  _ their _ bed, in something that could only be a postcoital cuddle and next to her is the very familiar face of none other than his best friend, Ben. 

Louis’ ears fill with a whistling sound, like pipes in an old house, and his heart beats up into his throat so harshly it almost sets off his gag reflex. The rest of him is numb, unable to move, unable to look away from what appears to be two lovers lost in each other and he simply cannot make sense of it.

It feels like an eternity, like he’s stuck in one particularly gruesome circle of hell, but then Ben catches sight of him and abruptly pulls away from the embrace of Cassie’s arms. “Louis!” he gasps, pulling the sheet up to cover Cassie _,_ as if her naked body needs to be shielded from her husband’s eyes. As if there’s any sort of dignity left to hold on to.

That’s when Louis’ eyes land on Cassie’s. Her face is caught in a wild expression, guilt and shock both playing over her usually beautiful features. Louis can tell she’s desperately trying to come up with a way to explain it, to get herself off guilt-free, and he almost feels spiteful when she comes up short. “Louis…” she whispers out quietly and then her gaze melts into something like pleading. 

He feels sick. He’s not sure what he’s expected to do in this situation. Is he supposed to start yelling? Is this where he punches his best friend in the jaw to display his masculinity, his worth as a partner to his own wife? Does he tell them both to go to hell? Does he threaten to ruin their lives?

It’s not until Cassie starts moving, her feet sliding to the floor as if she’s decided to get closer to him, that he turns around to leave. His legs carry him with quick steps down the stairs and out the front door before he even knows where he’s going. He’s already fumbling with unlocking the car door when Cassie makes her way out of the house, running after him in nothing but a dressing gown. 

“Louis, wait! I’ll explain, please! Come inside, we need to talk about this!” she yells at him, clutching at the lapels of her gown to keep it closed.

He doesn’t dare look at her, afraid that he’ll cave, afraid that he won’t be able to resist her big doe eyes. Once inside the car, his fingers tremble as he tries to get the key into the ignition and she catches up with him just as he manages to rev the engine. 

She pulls on the locked passenger door. “Louis, come on! Stop it, let me explain!” 

Just before pulling out of the driveway he throws her one last look. He has no idea what it is she sees in his eyes, but it seems to be enough to make her stop and she steps back, arms curling over her stomach as she watches him leave.

It’s not before he’s made his way to the empty parking lot behind the warehouse store that it somehow catches up with him. 

His life as he knows it is over. 

All the future plans—every romantic surprise, every family holiday, every renovation project, every parent teacher meeting, every Christmas, Thanksgiving and birthday celebration—it’s all been robbed from him, straight from under his naïve, trusting, stupid fucking nose. 

With a deep sob, he falls forward against the steering wheel as something sharp and painful sears through his chest, ripping him apart from within.

Thirty minutes later he pulls out of the parking lot, face swollen and wet with tears as he heads to pick up Miles, thinking Cassie has most likely forgotten to do so.

-

The next week is spent in a haze and Louis feels like his life no longer belongs to him, like he’s playing the role of someone whose wife cheated on him with his best friend for the past eight months. 

He tries to focus on Miles. He wakes up every morning to pack her lunch, drops her off at whatever activity day she has for the day and reads her bedtime stories to lull her safely into Dreamland. 

One night he agrees to see Cassie and it doesn’t exactly go the way he might have thought or hoped. She doesn’t even seem that sorry. Sure, she grovels and looks at him with those wide eyes that he used to adore and begs his forgiveness for the way things turned out. But she never apologizes for cheating on him with his best friend because, you see, she’s in love. She’s happy. The concept sounds so foreign to Louis’ ears.

Until a week ago, he thought she was in love with him.

Ben doesn’t even attempt to contact him and he’s not sure if he’s grateful or pissed off about it. All of a sudden thirteen years of close friendship is thrown out the window, treated like an inconvenient itch. (Or perhaps not so inconvenient since Louis introduced him to the future love of his life, apparently…) 

One day when he heads out for lunch, he catches sight of them from across the street. They’re walking with their arms around each other, big smiles on their faces, as if they’d just been waiting for him to catch them and now they’re set free. 

On the drive to pick up Miles later that day, he comes to a conclusion: he and his daughter need to get the fuck out of Chicago. 

-

Louis turns around at the gate, waiting as Miles drags her bag behind her on the path. For a moment his eyes leave his daughter’s sullen face and he looks up at the house. The house that for so many years carried all his thoughts and dreams. The house that ever since he was old enough to know he wanted a family of his own, has been the symbol of happiness and success. Seven years he spent in this house, most of them happy. He’s played countless games of soccer with Miles in the backyard. He’s cuddled up on the sofa almost every Friday night with Cassie, glass of red in hand and a kiss to her forehead. He has cursed that stupid vanity in the hallway every time he’s stubbed his toe on it and he has cooked dinners for their friends in their newly renovated kitchen. Some nights he’s spent comforting a devastated Miles as tears stream down her face, haunted by nightmares. Others he’s stayed up late after everyone’s gone to sleep, curled up in the armchair in the office, just him and a book under the harsh light from the reading lamp. 

It’s all over now; wrapped up neatly within the four walls of this house. As he leaves the house, he also leaves an entire life behind. His chest constricts at the thought, his stomach heavy with regret and sorrow. 

Miles has made her way over to him by now, peering up at him from under her red baseball cap. “Where’s Mom?” she asks, eyes squinting against the harsh sunlight.

“I don’t know,” he answers truthfully, doing his best not to let his mind go in that direction. What Cassie is doing is no longer any of his business, and the likelihood that she’s doing something that would hurt him is kind of overwhelming so he tries not to dwell on it. “Let’s go kiddo, we’re going to see Grams,” he says and puts a hand at Miles’ neck, steering her towards the car with a soft squeeze of his fingers. 

“I don’t want to. I wanna see Mommy,” Miles whines as she reluctantly climbs into the car. 

“I’m sorry darling,” he says and pecks her cheek before closing the passenger door. As he makes his way around the car he pulls up the letter he’d tucked into his jeans pocket. He takes a deep breath and feels the rose-colored paper beneath his fingers as he surveys the car one last time. The trunk is filled to the brim with suitcases and boxes, his and Miles’ lives packed up and ready for take off. He doesn’t want to think about where they’re heading. 

When he makes his way into the driver’s seat, Miles has curled up on the floor, resting her head against the seat as she pouts. “Why isn’t Mommy coming with us?” 

Louis sighs as he starts up the car, suddenly filled with the urgency to get going, to get away from his broken life. Before pulling out from the curb he gives the letter to Miles, doing his best to give her a smile. It only wavers slightly.

“Your Mom asked me to give this to you,” he says and she eagerly accepts it, tearing open the envelope. “She loves you so much, hon.” 

He swallows the lump in his throat as he gets on the road, the house growing smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror as Miles reads the letter.

“She says she already misses me and that she’ll see me soon,” Miles tells him, clutching the letter to her chest. 

Louis can almost hear his own heart shattering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed! ❤
> 
> You can also find me on [tumblr.](http://gaycousinlarry.tumblr.com/) I’d love to chat! 
> 
> And here's a tumblr post if you want to [reblog.](http://gaycousinlarry.tumblr.com/post/170338929653/something-in-the-way-written-by-momentofclarity) Thank you!


	2. Chapter 2

Driving into his old hometown is like driving straight into the past. If Louis could ignore the sleeping eight-year-old in the passenger seat, he would feel as though he was seventeen again, coming back from a short drive out of town. Maybe he’d be heading over to Cassie’s for dinner with her parents, or maybe he’d meet up with the guys on the soccer field. 

Cows wander over the gentle hills just outside of town, chewing their grass and looking like they don’t have a care in the world. The setting sun showers the low houses of the main street in a dusty orange glow; a direct contrast to the tall buildings of the city he just left behind. There’s a heavy feeling of unease settling into his stomach as he sees the old green pickup truck still sitting in front of Hilton’s Garage and the stuffed geese still in the front window of the antiques store on the corner where his mother used to work. It’s as if time froze this town while the world moved, changed, progressed around it. He hasn’t set foot here for years, but the only change he can see as he drives through the neighborhood where he grew up, is how the pothole by Gregg’s has grown wider. 

He turns left at a four-way intersection and that’s when it towers in front of him. His old high school. Louis subconsciously slows down as he passes the schoolyard and then further along the fence he’s treated by the view of freshly cut grass. The soccer field seems just as endless as it did back then, filled with hope and laughter, with youthful recklessness and naïve dreams of the future. The only difference is how he used to find immense comfort in all that, whereas now it only makes him feel old and jaded. 

“What’s that smell?” Miles interrupts his thought and pushes up onto her knees to see her surroundings better. 

“Cows,” Louis says and puts a gentle hand on her head, smiling softly at her sleep tousled hair and the imprints of the seat belt on her cheek. “This is where I used to play soccer.” He nods towards the field. 

Miles perks up and gazes out of the window. “Were you any good?” she asks and if she could, Louis just  _ knows _ she would lift an eyebrow sassily; he did raise her well after all. 

He chuckles and nods. “The best.” He grins when she gapes at him. “I was! The team captain and everything!” 

She plops back down in her seat and crosses her arms over her chest. “How come you’re not a soccer player then?”

“Just because I was the best in Smithville, doesn’t mean I was the best anywhere else, darling,” he explains and pushes the gas pedal once they’ve moved past the field. He’d rather not think about whether there was a bitter tone to his statement or not.

“That’s stupid. If you’re the best, you’re the best,” Miles concludes and dives into her backpack, probably looking for a snack, and resolutely shutting down the conversation. 

-

The sun has nearly set when they pull up in front of his mother’s house and the unease that settled in his stomach as they arrived into town only grows heavier. It’s a beautiful house, way too big for his mother alone, but perfect for the family of four that they were when he was a kid. It is painted light blue with white window panes and doors, and it has a wide porch stretching all along the front and west side of the house. At one point this house set the standard for what Louis pictured for himself: a family home large enough for a whole family, a front yard with a swing set and oak trees casting cooling shadows over the grass. 

Miles throws the car door open with little grace and runs towards the house where Louis’ mother has appeared. She’s dressed in a red shirt tucked inside blue jeans, her once blonde, but now rather white hair, is styled impeccably in wavy curls around her shoulders. Ramona walks down the porch steps and settles down on her knees, opening her arms for her granddaughter. 

“Gramgrams!” Miles hollers and dives into the embrace. 

“My sweetest most favorite grandchild!” Ramona answers and hugs Miles tightly to her chest.

“I’m your  _ only _ grandchild!” Miles shrieks, following the script those two made up years ago. Louis can’t help but smile at the exchange, even though he’s a bit reluctant to say hi to his mother himself. 

He keeps himself busy unloading their bags of clothes and necessities as his mother and daughter whisper to each other in hushed voices. He’d rather not know what they’re talking about, so he hums under his breath and makes sure to bring Miles’ backpack before he makes his way up the brick pathway. As he approaches them he can’t help but feel like Miles has already picked a side—the opposing team—with Ramona’s hand settling on Miles’ head and Miles shining up at her grandmother with a toothy grin. He knows he’s being petty and that Miles hasn’t seen her grams in a long time, but the feeling is there nonetheless.

“Hi there, darl—” Ramona says before interrupting herself, a deep line between her eyebrows.

“Hi Momma,” Louis greets her and does his best to give her a smile and a wave, the bags weighing heavily on his shoulders.

“You look horrible honey. You haven’t picked up drinking, have you?”

Ah, and there it is, his mother’s gentle care. He takes a deep breath so he won’t curse at her before they’ve even made it through the front door.

“No Momma, I have not,” he says as he makes his way past her. Of course he knows he looks like shit, with deep dark circles under his eyes and untrimmed scruff covering his cheeks. He’d sort of hoped he’d be allowed a reprieve since his whole life has fallen apart over the past few weeks, but that was obviously asking too much. 

“Well, you look it,” she insists and Louis really just wants to pull a blanket over his head. 

“Well, I _ haven’t. _ ” 

“Well, some sleep will do you good at least,” she says and he sighs as he opens the screen door and makes his way inside, waiting for Miles to join him. 

“Yeah, some sleep will do me good,” he mutters.

-

After a light dinner and Louis doing his best to ignore his mother’s imploring questions, it’s finally time for bed. Miles is set up in Louis’ sister’s old room (still as pastel and flower adorned as it was back then), while Louis’ settles into his own. He almost laughs at how ridiculously cliché the blue walls and the soccer posters are. A shelf on the far wall holds all the trophies he won over the years, dimmed gold and silver mocking him as he stands there—gray, old, and heartbroken. He wonders what his younger self would think, if he’d be ashamed of the man he has become or if he’d feel sorry for this sad fool. He shivers at the thought.

“ _ Dad! _ ” Miles calls from the room down the hall and a small sense of relief bursts in his chest. At least his daughter is always there to pull him out of his own head.

Miles is already under the covers, her glasses set aside on her bedside table. Wisps of dark blonde hair lay like a halo around her head. Louis sits down beside her on the bed and fusses over her a bit, fluffing her pillow and making sure she’s got her bunny rabbit close by.

“You tired, honey?” he asks, realizing with a dash of guilt that he really hopes that she is—doesn’t know for how long he’d be able to keep her company without his eyes falling shut.

“Yeah,” she says and yawns widely as if to prove a point. 

“Arms in or out?” Louis asks before he starts tucking the sheets around her tightly with exaggerated movements. 

“Out,” she decides and he waits for her to lift them before tucking the sheet in all the way up her sides.

“My baby burrito.” He grins at her as she looks like a little spring roll with her pale yellow sheets wrapped around her. 

“You tired Dad?” she asks then and he wonders if she knows how exhausted he is or if she’s simply returning the question. 

“Yeah, a bit,” he scrunches up his nose at her and leans down to kiss her forehead. “I’m right down the hall if you need anything, alright?” 

She nods and yawns again. “Sure, g’night, Dad.” 

For some reason he feels proud over how strong she is, that she’s not asking him to stay with her or even to leave the light on as she falls asleep in a new place with new smells and noises outside her window. 

“Good night, my love,” he says before he leaves the room, door left slightly ajar in case she needs to call for him. 

After he’s brushed his teeth Louis crawls into bed, falling down with a loud sigh onto the pillow and feeling like every bone in his body hates him. Curling his arms beneath the pillow, he prepares for exhaustion to take over, but it never comes. Once his breathing settles and the sound of the crickets outside fills his ears, he’s suddenly wide awake. He turns around and stares up at the ceiling, the crack in the paint still there just as it was all those nights when he lied awake and let his thoughts run wild. Every dream of the future and anxious worry in his belly escaping out into the air above him, a storm of nightmares and dreams swirling against the white painted ceiling. 

He’s here now. Tomorrow will be the first day of his new life. His life away from home. Away from Cassie. Away from everything he thought he knew. It doesn’t feel like he’s moving forward though, but rather like he’s just taken a huge step backwards. Maybe tomorrow when he wakes up it will be like no time has passed at all. 

His mind fills with nightmares before he’s even closed his eyes. 

-

Breakfast is a vicious thing. When Louis opened his eyes, it felt like he had only just closed them, and now he needs to prepare for his only child to start at a new school while he feels like the living dead. For once he’s grateful for his mother’s chirpiness as she sets the table and makes sure Miles has everything she needs to fill up her belly. Louis sips his black coffee quietly and his stomach roils slightly at the sight of food. His appetite doesn’t seem to have returned yet, great.

“It’s so good to have you back Louis,” his mother starts and she looks between her son and his daughter with warm, excited eyes. “ _ Everyone _ is looking forward to seeing you!”

“Who, exactly, is everyone?” Louis asks because he honestly can’t come up with a single soul who would genuinely care about his presence in this town. 

Ramona keeps going as if she didn’t hear him. “I just think you’re so brave for coming back home, honey. It’s what I always hoped for in the end.” 

Louis feels the unease starting up again, nausea rolling through his body in waves. “I didn’t exactly plan for this, Momma,” he says, defeat seeping into his words. Because that’s what this is, isn’t it? Coming back home to the small town he left, tail between his legs and admitting defeat. Proving to everyone he truly wasn’t any better or more successful than the rest of them. 

“What about you, Miles? What are your plans for living here?” Ramona says, yet again ignoring him. Louis would almost be impressed by her ability to keep conversation going on her own if he wasn’t so used to it.

“I dunno,” Miles says and shrugs, a worried pout on her lips. 

“Well, maybe it’s time you make up your mind then. You see, you’re starting a whole new life here, anything you want is possible,” Ramona says and winks at Miles. 

“If that’s true, I wanna make friends, but what if they don’t like me here?” Miles asks and Louis’ chest tightens. He had barely even thought of that, just brought Miles here because they had to  _ get away,  _ without really considering how she might fit into this small town. 

“You worry too much, sweetheart, of course they will,” he says and forces himself to give her at least a small smile. 

Miles is just about to open her mouth to answer when the phone rings loudly and her eyes go wide as saucers. She’s instantly out of her seat and running towards the kitchen. Louis can’t hear what she’s saying from where he sits at the dinner table, but Miles stays away so he assumes he was right about it being Cassie calling. His mother has started reading the paper, presumably having given up on him being good company and he takes a bite of a cold piece of toast. 

A few minutes later Miles shows up in the doorway, beaming with her whole face. 

“Mom says hi. She really misses me!” she says and a lump instantly rises in Louis’ throat, tears burning in his eyes at the sight of his daughter _. I bet she does, _ he thinks bitterly and wonders how the fuck he’s ever supposed to be able to fix this.

-

He walks Miles to school and is quite grateful for the chance to get out of the house and clear his head. One thing he never stopped enjoying about this town is the quiet mornings with the soft light painting the town pink and warm. 

As Miles takes in the surroundings, her small hand held in his, Louis’ mind wanders. He thinks about the fact that he’s brought his daughter back here and he wonders what she’ll make of this place. Louis did, after all, love growing up here. He thrived with his large group of friends, his success on the soccer field, the smartest and prettiest girl on his arm. His resentment towards this place came after. When he’d been away at college and came back here for holidays and weekend visits. He always used to wonder why people would stay—why they’d settle for only one proper grocery store and a whole lot of fields—when they could have the world instead.

“It’s a good thing you only missed a couple weeks here,” Louis says a bit distractedly as they get closer to school. “But I bet the school’s back home are way ahead anyways,” he says and cringes at his use of the word  _ home.  _

They arrive at the brown brick building and just as he’s about to climb the steps, Miles stops him with a tug on his hand. 

“I’ll go inside on my own.”

Louis squats down so he can look at her properly. His eyes flit over her determined face and for a moment all his worries melt away.

“You’re my independent girl, aren’t ya?” He grins and brushes some invisible lint off her shoulder, because that seems like the kind of thing parents do when they want their kids to look presentable. 

“You’re right about that!” She nods with a grin.

“Well, I still want a kiss goodbye,” he says and pulls her into a hug, her arms wrapping around his shoulder before she’s pulling away. She plants a quick kiss to his forehead.

“Bye Dad!” she says and then she starts climbing the stairs, not turning around before she reaches the door. With a last wave she leaves him there in the schoolyard and he wonders when his eight-year-old daughter became more capable than he himself seems to be.

-

Back home his mother has settled into her favorite armchair, knitting on one of her seemingly never-ending projects and he crawls up onto the couch with a cup of tea. He doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know how to talk to her, but he feels obligated to at least  _ try _ and spend some time with her. He can barely remember the last time he came home for a visit. 

“I just don’t understand what happened,” his mother says suddenly, not taking her eyes off her knitting. “Everything was going so well and then all of a sudden you call and say you’re coming back home, just like that.” 

On some level he knows she means well, that she wants to know everything so she can  _ fix it _ , but he doesn’t know how to tell her that she can’t fix this. That all that was, is permanently broken. But the tilt in her voice that very clearly shows that she blames him for at least part of it, is also hard to ignore. 

“I didn’t do anything wrong, Momma. Why is it always my fault?” He sighs heavily and leans forward in his seat, putting his mug on the coffee table.

“I didn’t say it was your fault, you just never told me you had issues,” Ramona says and he can sense some hurt in there as well. Great, even more guilt to be smothered with. He figures that with no facade left to hold up, he’s got nothing to lose trying to be honest though.

“I just wanted everything to be perfect, to be successful and happy. Me and Cassie, we were always the perfect couple—”

“Until she cheated on you,” his mother interrupts. 

“You never liked Cassie, I know that,” he says, somehow feeling the need to defend the woman who broke his heart. Even as his mother’s words feel like the twist of a knife.

“Oh, I love all God’s creatures,” Ramona says and Louis huffs at her because she’s never been very religious. “I just don’t like all of them dating my son is all.”

“I just—I don’t think I was ever what she really wanted…” he trails off, trying to sort his thoughts out. “Once we left Smithville I wasn’t all that I was cracked up to be, you know? Team captain, prom king… outside this town those things mean nothing. I was just a joke, trying to be something I’m not.”

“You were  _ never _ a joke.” 

“Yes I was, Momma, I could see it in her eyes, the way she used to look at me… some time along the way it just stopped.” He chokes up on the last word, hiding his face in his hands.

“Oh honey, crying over it won’t make it any better. Just… life goes on and you’ve got to go along with it.” 

He feels the sofa cushion sink next to him and his mother’s hand comes down to caress his back stiffly. 

“Yeah,” he lets out, voice strained. 

He just has no idea how to do just that. 

-

Later in the evening the three of them are seated around the dinner table again. Miles has just told them about her day and how she thinks no one at her new school will like her. 

“Oh stop it, you two. Never have I seen such mopes before, look at that!” Ramona points at Louis, “Mope,” and then she points at Miles. “Also a mope! Look at me! I don’t have much, but I’m still happy!” Her arms fly out as if to show off all the happiness pouring out of her. 

Sometimes Louis feels a reluctant sort of connection to her, knowing where his dramatic flare comes from. Right in this moment he doesn’t like the feeling very much. His mother continues on with her one-woman show as he and Miles keep staring down at their plates grumpily. “You know what Miles, you think it’s so easy being me, all  _ white hair  _ and  _ wrinkles  _ and  _ warts  _ all over the place?” Ramona says with a teasing voice, her eyes gleaming at her granddaughter. 

That has Miles cracking up though, her toothy grin appearing on her face. “You don’t have warts, Grams!” 

Ramona claps her hands in delight. “There we go! You see, that smile means there’s hope for you.”

Louis can’t help but smiling at them. His mother might not always be easy to deal with, but she does love Miles an awful lot. 

As he’s about to take another fork of homemade pie there’s a knock on the door and just as this morning with the phone, Miles’ eyes go wide as she jumps out of her seat. “I’ll get it!” 

“You expecting someone?” Louis asks his mom, wondering why on earth she’d ask someone over right in the middle of dinner.

“No… but oh! That might be Harry Styles, he said he’d drop by. He’s helping me with the porch you see,” she says, trying her best to look inconspicuous and failing miserably. 

Louis rolls his eyes, annoyance thrumming at his temples because he knows  _ exactly _ what his mother is doing. 

“I don’t want to see Harry Styles, Momma,” he says and he might be whining just a bit. She always does this to him, makes him into a grumpy petulant child, but the last thing he wants right now is to deal with whatever it is she thinks she’s doing.

“Oh, don’t be rude Louis. Now we go say hi,” she brushes him off as she heads out into the hallway.

Louis reluctantly follows, head bent down to avoid the inevitable for as long as he possibly can. The moment he enters the hallway, Miles is at his side and he smiles at her and puts a hand on her shoulder. Then he looks up and is met by the greenest eyes on this side of the state border. Harry Styles grins wildly at him, dimple deep in his cheek as his eyes sparkle.

The eyes and the dimple are just about the only things that are the same about him though. Where there used to be round features there’s now sharp cheekbones and a ridiculously defined jaw. Where there used to be softness and long awkward limbs, there’s now broad shoulders and thick muscle. The hair that used to be a fluffy mess of curls is now short cropped on the sides and perfectly messy on top his head. 

He’s handsome, grown into himself in a way that Louis hadn’t expected. Somehow he pictured a teenage boy showing up on their doorstep with a dimpled grin and bunny teeth. In front of him is instead a grown man, dressed top to bottom in light blue denim, a white Stetson in his hand, and brown boots on his feet. 

“Well, well, well, if it ain’t Louis Tomlinson,” Harry drawls in a deep slow voice before letting out a sigh and shaking his head slightly, as if he can’t believe his eyes. 

“Hey Harry,” Louis says and plasters a smile on his face. “And it’s ‘Tomlinson-Stewart,’ actually.” He pulls Miles even closer to him as if to prove a point. He’s not even sure what point it is, but those shining eyes make him feel scrutinized, like Harry is looking right through him. 

“Oh, my bad.” Harry purses his lips, eyes falling to the floor for a second. Then he looks back up at Louis and the smile is back on his face. “Louis, Louis, Louis,” he says, shaking his head in disbelief again. “Can’t believe you came back.” 

“Well, here I am!” Louis says, his voice way too shrill for his own liking. “This is my daughter Miles.” 

“Miles, Miles, Miles,” Miles says with a grin and Harry breaks his eye contact with Louis to look at her, giving her a smile of her own.

“You smell real nice Harry. Is that cologne?” Ramona says suddenly and Louis nearly flinches, having forgotten all about her for a few precious moments. 

“Nah, just paint thinner and sweat I’m afraid, ma'am,” he says and then it’s her turn to get a smile. He’s handing them out like free samples at the farmer’s market.

“Well you sure smell good Harry, why don’t you go out on the porch and I’ll have Louis bring you some iced tea?” Ramona goes on in her usual fashion, ignoring the parts that don’t fit her ideal version of the conversation. Louis would glare at her if it wasn’t for the way Harry’s eyes are back on him, like the spotlights lighting up the soccer field at night.

“Sounds lovely,” Harry says, putting his hat on and tipping it towards Miles. “Bye Miles, Miles, Miles and great to see you Louis. You look good.” With those words he turns around and heads out to the porch, leaving Louis with heated cheeks and his temples throbbing. 

Once Harry is out of earshot, Ramona turns to Louis with a smile. “Go fetch the boy some tea won’t you?” 

“I’m  _ not  _ bringing him tea, Momma,” Louis grinds out, finally able to stop pretending he’s anything but annoyed at what just happened. “I’m going to bed.” 

Without waiting for an answer he stomps up the stairs and into his bedroom. He sits down on the bed, groaning to himself at his mother’s meddling. Ever since he was a kid she always thought she knew what was best for him, never let him make his own decisions. He can’t help but feeling embarrassed over her actions, about what they imply. 

She always had a soft spot for Harry, always invited him over even though Louis was busy with his own friends. And he knows Harry used to have a crush on him—it wasn’t exactly a secret. Not with the way he never stopped staring or the way he’d put up with Louis even though he wasn’t very nice to him at times. But the fact that Ramona seems to think that there is anything left there for her to put her nose into makes his cheeks flush with humiliation. Louis is hardly the boy he was back then and even though it’s hard to imagine, Harry probably isn’t either. 

Feeling like he’s about to suffocate, Louis needs to get out of his stifling clothes and into something more comfortable, so he picks out some sweats and a worn out t-shirt. Brushing his teeth while avoiding his tired looking face in the mirror, he wonders when Miles is going to make her way up the stairs. He thought she would follow him like she usually does, but when he comes back to the bedroom and she’s still downstairs he can’t help moving closer to the landing, trying to capture her voice from the floor below. He can’t hear anything really, so with a huff he quietly makes his way downstairs. The dinner table is cleared and his mother is nowhere to be seen, so he moves through to the kitchen where he hears voices out on the porch. He stays just to the side of the screen door so he won’t be seen.

Miles is out there with Harry and he’s not sure how he feels about it. The feeling of losing Miles to the enemy bubbles up in his stomach once again and he tries to shut it down. They seem to be making small talk, but then Harry says something that has Louis listening carefully.

“You know, your Dad and I, we go way back.”

“I’ve known him my whole life,” Miles counters. “Bet you haven’t, have you?” 

Harry chuckles at that. “That’s a fair point, and how old are you?”

“Just turned eight actually,” Miles says proudly and Louis can picture her face perfectly, nose turned up in mock snotty-ness. 

“Oooh, well then, that’s a whole lot of years knowing someone,” Harry agrees, voice warm and light. He seems to enjoy the feisty little beast that is Louis’ daughter. 

A moment passes in silence and Louis is just about to turn around and leave, scared of getting caught eavesdropping, when Miles starts talking again.

“I don’t think Dad will come back down before you leave,” she says and she sounds rather sullen about it. “He’s been a big grump lately.”

Louis’ stomach sinks at that, knowing that for Miles to bring this up with a stranger she must’ve thought quite a lot about it. Not wanting to hear any more of his daughter’s disappointment he heads back through the kitchen and up the stairs. 

It’s not like he doesn’t know he’s not been himself lately, but he can’t seem to find a way to settle his thoughts or to gather up the energy to do anything but make sure Miles is clean and fed. Back before this all happened, his daughter was used to evenings of him helping her with homework and then kicking a ball around or playing board games. Ever since his whole world fell apart, he’s not wanted to do anything but lie in bed with a blanket over his head and he knows it must affect Miles. 

If only he knew how to be a good dad while also learning how to breathe all over again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed! ❤
> 
> You can also find me on [tumblr.](http://gaycousinlarry.tumblr.com/) I’d love to chat! 
> 
> And here's a tumblr post if you want to [reblog.](http://gaycousinlarry.tumblr.com/post/170338929653/something-in-the-way-written-by-momentofclarity) Thank you!


	3. Chapter 3

Louis wakes up with a start when his mother throws his bedroom door open with a bang and enters his room with the hoover already on and in action. He puts his pillow over his head and groans into the mattress, feeling like the world is attacking him with all its bright light and loud noises before he’s even managed to properly open his eyes. 

“Up you get!” Ramona shouts at him over all the noise. “You need the stink blown off of you!” 

Louis just groans even louder and dives deeper under the covers. He can already tell this day won’t be a good one, that it will take him everything just to get out of this bed—maybe it’s best he doesn’t even try at all. The past couple of weeks there’s been a heavy stone in his stomach and a few days he hasn’t even made it out of bed in time to see Miles off to school. That makes the stone grow even heavier, to the point of nausea at times, and it pulls him even further into his cocoon. The world outside his bedroom door feeling like an impossible obstacle to tackle. 

“I’ll turn on the shower for ya and then we’ll go shopping!” his mother chirps again, as if being annoyingly cheerful will do anything to help her case. Understanding others was never her strong suit. 

As soon as she’s out the door, Louis turns over on his other side and promptly falls asleep again. 

The second time he wakes up it’s because of noise spilling in from outside, some sort of electrical tool making noises that tear through Louis’ head like a torture device. It only takes him a couple of minutes to come to the conclusion that he’ll never be able to sleep with all this racket, so he curses loudly as he flings himself out of bed. He angrily stomps downstairs in search for his mother. 

“Stop the damn ruckus, I’m trying to sleep for god’s sake!” he yells and heads towards the noise with determined steps. Opening the screen door out to the porch he stops in his tracks the second he sees the cause of the noise. His sleep ridden mind hadn’t made the connection, but as he’s assaulted by the image of Harry Styles in light blue jeans and a white undershirt, tan muscled arms glistening in the midday sun, he wants to kick himself. His guess is that he himself looks like he just came home from a three-day bender. Jesus Christ.

“What are you doing?” Louis spits out to save face and act like he’s not embarrassed about his own yelling and stomping. 

“I’m working on the porch,” Harry states the obvious. He stands up from whatever it is he’s doing with his noise-making tools from hell and gives Louis a clear once over. “You look horrible, have you been drinking?” 

Louis nearly gapes at him, fury boiling in his veins at the remark. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?” He takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose to collect himself. “How long is this going to take?”

“A couple of hours. Go upstairs and have a shower. I bet you’d feel a lot better,” Harry drawls out, eyes still hovering over Louis as he wipes his hands on a rag. 

“Well I didn’t ask for your opinion now, did I?” Louis is fuming by now, so beyond frustrated over this whole situation. All he wanted was to get some rest. 

“I’m not doing you any favors lying to you,” Harry says, eyebrows knitting together as he gives Louis a serious look. 

For some reason that drains all the energy out of Louis’ bones, his anger melting into exhaustion. “I don’t need your favors Harry. I need… just leave me alone.” 

He can feel Harry’s eyes on him as he goes back inside. Returning back to bed, he only has time to take notice that the noise outside has stopped, before he falls back into restless slumber. 

-

It’s late afternoon when he’s finally awake enough to get out of bed; his empty stomach protesting before he drags himself into the kitchen for some coffee and toast. He can hear Miles and Ramona in the living room and he tries to swallow the guilt that bubbles up at not even having made it out of bed before she got back home from school. Looking out the kitchen window he makes a promise to himself to try harder tomorrow, despite already knowing that promise will most likely be broken. 

The phone rings and disturbs his quiet brooding and he makes his way over to the receiver to pick it up. If he thought this day couldn’t get any worse he was dead wrong and as Cassie’s voice carries through the line he slumps against the counter. She sounds rushed and quite upset. Worry stirs in Louis’ belly.

“Listen, I was talking to Miley before and I’m sorry that you’re taking this so hard… I mean, that you can’t even get out of bed?” Cassie’s bright voice tilts in disbelief. Panic rises in Louis’ chest and his throat closes up. What the fuck did Miles do?

“You have a daughter to take care of Louis,” Cassie goes on. “She needs you, you can’t just shut her out like that.” 

Tears burn in his eyes and his skin prickles with humiliation. He honestly can’t believe this is happening, that Miles would tell on him like this, that Cassie would get confirmation that she made the right choice all along to leave him and Miles behind. That he truly never was the perfect husband he tried to be for so long. 

“I need to go,” he finally manages to wheeze out before hanging up, not waiting for Cassie to answer. He takes a deep breath to calm himself, but finds it only makes his hands tremble. It’s so unfair. So beyond unfair that he doesn’t even know what to do with this information. Cassie is off in Chicago living her dream and now his miserable self has been exposed. He’s pathetically hung up on the past whilst she’s moving on without a single regret. The panic suddenly takes over and he needs to  _ do something,  _ needs to get this feeling off his chest or he’s going to implode. 

Miles’ voice carries out from the living room and before he’s made a conscious decision, he’s moving towards her hurriedly. He starts shouting before he’s even made his way over to her. 

“You can’t talk behind my back, if you have something to say to me you say it to my face, do you hear me? You don’t go talking to your Mom like that!” He stares down at her and his cheeks flame with anger and humiliation yet again. He feels so unbelievably betrayed and he doesn’t know what to do with those emotions when they’re caused by his daughter’s actions. 

Miles glares up at him, not one to cower just because someone is yelling at her. “I just said we’re sad. We’re both sad!” 

“We are  _ not sad.  _ We’re fine Miles, just  _ fine _ ,” Louis shouts back as tears well up. He wipes at his eyes to clear his vision.

“We’re  _ not _ fine! You don’t care about me! You’re not taking care of me, you barely talk to me!” Miles is standing up now, challenging him with her arms flying out at her sides. ”You promised Mom you would take care of me!” 

Louis feels the last bit of control run out of him at the last sentence, his face draining of color as his head spins and acid burns his throat. “Well, you know what? Your Mom promised me the fucking  _ world _ and she broke that promise, okay? So I’ll break every promise I ever made to her!” 

He doesn’t know if his heart is even whole enough to beat another beat—he feels so completely shattered. The hurtful words flying from his mouth only make it worse, but he can’t seem to stop himself.

“Hey now! Miles was just being honest,” Ramona scolds him then and he looks at her in bewilderment, his chaotic mind informing him she’s betraying him too. “Look at yourself Louis, you haven’t gotten dressed in days, staying in bed all the time… you’re hiding out like a coward. You used to be so cheerful and energetic, what happened to you?”

He sputters at that, because how can she even bring something like that up now? As if he’s not doing his best to pick up the fragile pieces of his crushed life. As if opening his eyes in the morning doesn’t take more energy than an entire night’s sleep has given him. To throw his past self’s perceived accomplishments and cheery façade in his face feels like an exceptionally low blow.

“You know what Mom, maybe I had to, maybe I had to smile and be perfect all the time because there were parts of me that no one wanted to acknowledge, okay? I had secrets that couldn’t come out, so I acted like the perfect son, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect  _ team captain,  _ but I’m telling you that was  _ never _ who I was, and if you think so you’re  _ wrong! _ ” Tears fall down his face as he splits his chest open.

Ramona looks at him with disbelief, her stubbornness as hard to sway as his daughter’s. 

”And what good does it do, to hide behind that now?” she asks, voice dripping with disappointment. “You  _ know _ I always loved you, you  _ always _ had me, are you just gonna hide out in here and act like the whole world is against you? You have a daughter Louis, the greatest gift in the world, have you forgotten about that!?” Ramona raises her voice and that’s when Miles turns against her and yells with all her might.

“Don’t yell at him!” she shrieks and Louis’ eyes tear up again, his heart swelling in his chest as she defends him. 

Ramona sighs deeply and gives Miles a caress down the cheek. “Oh honey, I’m done. I just wish your Dad could see what he’s doing and cheer up.”

With that she leaves the room and Louis is left alone with Miles. He instantly falls to his knees and looks at her with pleading eyes. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers and then his daughter is in his arms, holding him tightly. “I’m so sorry honey, I didn’t mean to yell at you, I just…” he stops himself and shakes his head, knowing there are things he should keep to himself—that are not for his daughter to carry. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a bad father to you, I love you so much darling, more than anything.” He pulls away from her and cradles her face in his hands. “I promise I’ll do better, okay? I  _ promise _ .”

Miles nods at him, her cheeks wet with tears. “I love you Dad,” she says and throws her arms around him again. 

“I love you too, sweetie, more than anything.”

As they stay on the floor hugging each other closely for another few moments he feels something light up in his chest. Something like fierce stubborn fight.

-

The next morning when Louis’ alarm clock rings, he’s out of bed before he has the chance to reconsider. The night before he set out a pair of jeans, a fresh blue button up and newly washed underwear on the bathroom counter and he jumps into the shower to clean the past few day’s worth of sweat and grime off his tired limbs. Once he’s out of the shower he’s woken up marginally and he sets up the razor and shaving cream on the sink.

His eyes are slightly bloodshot and there are still dark circles beneath his eyes, but the washed hair and clean shirt does  _ something  _ to his appearance at least. As he starts shaving he ponders for a few moments if he should leave the moustache, but he quickly disregards the idea with a slight chuckle. He tried it once and effectively looked like a teenager trying to pose as over 20 by wearing a fake moustache—not a very good look at all. 

He feels a little lighter as he goes to wake up Miles. She smiles brightly at him when she realizes it’s him and not her grandma waking her up for school and Louis’ heart flutters in his chest at the sight. They go through their morning routine just as they used to do and Louis notices the way Ramona smiles at him when she thinks he doesn’t notice. 

Maybe today will be a good day to start something new. 

After walking Miles to school he sets off towards the town square. The air is still burning hot with the remnants of summer and Louis can’t wait for it to break later in the fall. He enters the door to the employment agency with nerves in his belly and sweaty palms. Before falling asleep last night, he made a plan for what he needs to do to get back on track, to create a decent life for himself and Miles in this town. Getting a job seemed like a good place to start. Since he got all his summer jobs and extra hours through contacts, he’s never been inside this office and he doesn’t really know what to expect. 

The first thing that meets him is a high squeal. 

“Louis Tomlinson!” 

He startles slightly as a woman unknown to him hurries over. She looks to be his age, maybe a few years younger, and her eyes are shining with excitement as she smiles at him. “What a lovely surprise! You’re here to see Dot of course, newly back in town and all!”

He tries not to look completely taken aback by the way the words fall from her lips at lightning speed. “Oh, erhm, yes? Um, sorry, I’m not sure I remember your name?” He winces slightly and tries not to blush. He honest to god can’t recall ever seeing this person before. She doesn’t seem deterred though.

“Oh, of course not!” She waves her hand in the air as if to brush it off. “I was a few years your junior in school, but  _ everyone _ knew Louis Tomlinson, the greatest forward the town had seen since Fred Richmond!” 

She’s still smiling brightly and Louis tries to not be embarrassed for her. Why _on_ _earth_ would she admit so easily to knowing who he is even though he clearly doesn’t know her? He guesses people here aren’t as easily flustered as people in Chicago. 

“I’m Sandy Scott, anyways, Dottie will be ready for you in just a sec, you sit down and wait and I’ll call her!” 

The woman, Sandy, hurries back to her desk at the corner of the room and it hits Louis that he has no idea who this Dot person is either. Maybe he made a mistake coming here. He settles down on a squeaky leather sofa and tries not to fiddle too much as the minutes tick by. After what must surely be more than thirty minutes, Sandy puts her phone down into the receiver and looks up at him.

“She’s ready for you now, just through that door!” 

He’s starting to suspect this woman is only capable of talking at a certain speed, but he smiles at her as he makes his way over to a dark wooden door. Peering into the room he catches sight of a woman behind a large desk. She’s got brown hair down to her shoulders, blue eyes, and a rather pretty smile. 

He gives her a careful smile as he racks his brain to see if he can remember who she is, but he comes up short as he closes the door behind him.

“Hi,” he greets and waits for her to call him forward, his palms still sweating and he hopes she won’t shake his hand.

“Hi Louis,” she says, voice calm and collected as she looks at him with clear recognition. Damnit. “Take a seat.” She nods towards the armchair in front of the desk and he sits down, heart racing in his chest. 

“I didn’t keep you waiting, did I?” she asks and he instantly gets the feeling that’s exactly what she did.

“Oh no, not at all,” he smiles and shakes his head. 

She looks him up and down and he squirms slightly under her gaze. “You look good, same old Louis Tomlinson,” she says and gives him a smile that twitches a little too much to be genuine. 

He chuckles and scratches at his neck. “Same old Dot,” he says and hopes to God she’ll buy it.

They chuckle together for a moment and she puts a lock of hair behind her ear. When she looks back up at him, her eyes see right through him. “You have no idea who I am, do you?” 

In sheer desperation Louis chuckles again and scrunches up his nose, trying to act like it’s at least a little bit funny. “Heh, yeah, sorry I don’t.”

“That’s alright, when I knew you I was about five inches shorter and seventy pounds heavier. We didn’t exactly eat at the same lunch table,” she says and makes a face he can’t interpret. 

Louis’ eyes flicker over the woman’s face and then he sees something there that makes his jaw drop. “ _ Polka Dot? _ ” he asks before he can stop himself. “Is that  _ you _ ?”

Now she laughs out slightly hysterically, “Oh yes, well no one has called me that in a long time.” 

His mind spins as he tries to put together the girl from school with the woman before him. “Oh my god, that’s—you look  _ fantastic! _ ” he says and gives her the first genuine smile since he entered her office. 

For some reason that seems to be what dims hers. “Thank you,” she says with a rather steely voice and Louis nearly panics. Why is it so hard to interact with these people?

“You’re welcome! Oh my god, I can’t believe it,” he says and flashes her one of those smiles that always used to make the girls at school swoon. He might be overcompensating just a bit. 

“Was I really that terrible before?” Dot asks him, defiance shining in her eyes.

Oh,  _ darn it _ . “Oh, no of course not, I just meant—”

“It’s alright, I know what you meant. People change, we get better as we get older. Of course, you seem...” she pauses and gives him a quick once over. “Exactly the same.” 

Something gets caught in his throat at that. “Well, no, actually I—”

“Oh, I heard about you and Cassie,” she interrupts and there’s something on the malicious side of sympathy in her eyes. 

He coughs to clear his dry throat. It feels surreal to be talking about something this private with someone he hasn’t seen since high school, someone who doesn’t know anything about the person he has become. “Erhm, yeah,” is all he manages.

“She was always awfully popular with the boys, wasn’t she?” She leans forward in her seat and her face contorts with fake concern. “Are you alright?”

Louis flashes her another smile just by sheer force of will. He should really just get up and leave. “Yeah, yeah, of course.” 

Dot smiles again and then she leans back in her seat and opens up her file. “So! You need a job, what kind of work do you do?” 

“I’m a—I used to work as a realtor,” he says and folds his hands together in his lap, trying to focus on why he’s here in the first place.

She looks at him for a second before looking down at her papers again. “Well, we don’t have any  _ realtor _ positions open here, as you might’ve guessed. So… anything else you’ve considered doing?” 

“Eh…” He flushes with embarrassment over the fact that he actually hasn’t thought about it. With his broker license he never had a problem with finding a job before. “I don’t know really.”

“You know what,” Dot says as she stands up. “I’ll give you a call if anything comes up, how about that?”

“Dot, I… I just really need a job,” he says and looks up at her pleadingly. “It doesn’t have to be anything special, just a job so I can support myself and my daughter.” 

She looks at him skeptically and he feels desperation claw at his insides. He doesn’t want to have to go around to every business in town and ask if they’ve got work for him. Can’t even imagine the kind of gossip it would garner if the soccer star of Smithville High, class of ’85, with his fancy college diploma walked around begging for anyone to hire him. 

“Look, I know—or, I don’t know—how I treated you in high school, but I’m guessing it was pretty bad seeing as you seem reluctant to help me, and I don’t blame you, I don’t. But please just—is there anything? Waiting tables? The garbage truck? Anything?”

She sighs and sinks back into her chair, flicking through her files. “All we have is construction work and a position at the grocery store, not really your thing is it?”

“Like I said, anything really,” he shrugs one shoulder and wonders exactly what he might do at a construction site… probably get himself killed. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” Dot says and with that Louis can tell he’s been dismissed. He thanks her and leaves the office hoping that she means it.

-

He decides to have lunch at the diner instead of going back home to his mother’s probing questions. The diner isn’t overly crowded, mostly filled with small groups of coworkers. 

Sitting at one of the two-seat tables he sips at a cup of coffee as he looks over the menu and once he’s made his order his mind starts wandering, as it so often does these days. He’s made his choice to come back here and he can’t help but wonder if it was the right call. All he’s got here is his overbearing mother and his child who’s convinced the kids at school hate her. Maybe it would’ve been a smarter choice to stay in Chicago, to move forwards rather than backwards. On some level he probably thought he could come back and be the star in everyone’s eyes again, but then he wonders if that’s even possible without Cassie beside him. Wasn’t  _ she _ the one everyone looked at with stars in their eyes? Wasn’t  _ she _ the one that pushed him to get good enough grades to go to college and to do well enough on the soccer field that her father patted him proudly on the back after every game? Louis in Smithville was never really just Louis but Louis  _ & Cas _ , like a package deal of bright white smiles and perfectly tanned skin. 

His order arrives and he picks up his fork to start on his fries when a, by now familiar, deep drawl showers over him. 

“It’s not for weaklings, eating on your own.” Louis turns around to see Harry in a booth a few rows back, grinning at him. “Takes some guts to do that.” 

“Really?” Louis raises an eyebrow in question. 

“The trick is to seem mysterious, like the choice is yours,” Harry explains as he picks up his cup of coffee, demonstrating just how it’s done. 

Louis rolls his eyes but can’t help smiling. “Very impressive.” 

“Yeah you know, I’ve picked up a thing or two,” Harry says and Louis giggles at that, the action feeling oddly strange in his tired body. 

Louis turns to look out the window for a moment, contemplating his words before turning back around. “You care to join me?” he asks. 

For the first time since he seeing Harry again he feels like he’d actually enjoy his company. There’s a small spark of curiosity in his chest wondering who the boy Harry Styles has grown up to be.

Harry leans forward over his table slightly as he grins with both dimples out. “I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he says. “That would be cheating.” 

“Oh,” Louis answers and turns around with an exaggerated nod.  _ Of course. _

“Besides, I’d rather wait.” 

Before Louis has the chance to ask him what he means by that, he’s right by Louis’ side. He leans over Louis' shoulder and he smells like paint and greasy food, but there’s something warm and comforting about it. 

“Remember, mysterious, that’s the key. And order dessert, that’ll show ‘em.” He tips his wide-brimmed hat towards Louis and flashes him another grin, one that is hard to resist, and Louis finds himself grinning right back. 

“Yeah, right, right.” Louis shakes his head at this silly man as Harry makes his way over to the counter, pulling out his wallet and smiling brightly at the waitress. 

“Make me proud,” he says with a wink once he’s paid for his lunch and then he’s out the door. 

There’s something very peculiar about Harry Styles.

-

Two days later Louis gets a call from Dot saying she talked to the grocery store manager and Louis can start on Monday, so he spends his weekend kicking the ball with Miles and preparing for his new life as a grocery store clerk. 

Monday morning he waits nervously outside  _ Smithville Foods _ as the sun rises in the sky and the children ride their bikes to school. He doesn’t have to wait long before a woman who must be in her sixties, comes up to him with a warm smile. 

“Louis, how lovely to see you,” she says and reaches her hand out for him to shake. He finds that he actually recognizes this woman though, and smiles at her as he shakes her hand.

“Hello, Mrs. Charles,” he says and recalls how she and her husband have run this store since he was a little kid. 

“Oh, please call me Lily. That name makes me feel older than I actually am. Besides my husband passed away two summers ago so there’s something strange about being the Mrs. without my Mr.,” she says and laughs softly even though the light in her eyes dims.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Louis says. “Sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you dear,” she says and unlocks the sliding doors before they make their way inside.

She shows him around the store, which admittedly isn’t very large, and a few minutes before opening she demonstrates how to work the register.

“It will be great for business having you work here,” she says with a cheeky nudge with her elbow at his side. “The customers will stand in line to see you back in town.” 

His cheeks heat up at that and he tries to laugh it off even if it makes him feel slightly ill.

Despite not having worked a register since he worked at a gas station right outside of town in high school, the day runs rather smoothly. Lily was right about people recognizing him and a couple of times he’s pretty sure that some of them have made it to the store for the sole purpose of looking at him. They’re all nice enough though and whenever there’s a mishap with the register he tries to laugh it off—he always was rather good at making fun of himself. 

It’s not until towards the end of the day that things turn a bit more sour. He’s just said goodbye to a young mother and her two toddlers when someone he most definitely knows comes up to the counter. Bobbi Claire Akin—the infamous town gossip. Great. 

She struts up to the counter, red hair piled high on her head and long nails painted pink. “Well if it isn’t Louis Tomlinson,” she says with an overly perky smile, stopping right in front of the counter with a hand on her popped hip. 

“Bobbi Claire Akin,” he says and smiles stiffly at her. 

“Patterson now,” she says and flashes a big diamond ring. Then she leans forward over the counter and looks at him with wide eyes. “I’m so sorry, I heard about your sad news. Heard everything from Mallory, you know, Cassie’s cousin? How Cassie could humiliate you like that is just beyond me,” she says, voice all scandalous as if she would never do such a thing. 

“What can I do for you?” Louis asks, doing his best not to just turn around and leave. The last thing he needs is to create drama on his first day at work.

“You poor thing… oh well, I’m looking for corncobs, having a bit of a cookout this weekend. You’re free to stop by if you’d like.” She gives him a rather obvious once over and as the fat diamond sparkles on her finger, Louis gets the distinct feeling that he’s being flirted with by this woman who is surely at least fifteen years older than him. He has no idea what to do with the information. 

“Um, I think I’m busy but thank you for the invitation,” he says, voice tight with discomfort. “The corncobs should be over by the fresh produce aisle.” As if she doesn’t already know that. 

“Be right back, handsome.” She winks and makes her way into the store.

He stands there, rather gobsmacked, trying to recover from being both flirted with and humiliated by the same person within just a few minutes. The automatic doors slide open and in saunters Harry Styles himself. Seems like it’s Compulsory Field Trip to the Grocery Store Day.

“Hi there,” Harry says, tipping his head even though there’s no hat on it this time. He’s wearing a white Texas Rebel Radio t-shirt and a wide belt buckle matched with light blue jeans and cowboy boots. 

“Hi,” Louis says and gives him a wave.

“Heard round town you started working here,” Harry says and nods towards Bobbi Claire who is flicking through the pages of a glossy magazine close to the register. 

Louis smiles a little at that, at least he’s not wrong in thinking she’s a massive gossip. 

“News sure travels fast around here,” he says and pointedly throws a look over at Bobbi Claire again. 

Harry laughs out loud, a honking sound that has Louis bursting out laughing too. 

“Shhh,” he says and bows his head down to hide his grin, but as fast clicks of heels makes their way over to the counter he knows that it’s already too late.

“And what’s so funny over here, huh?” Bobbi Claire asks and she looks between the two men. 

“Nothing, ma’am,” Louis says and bites his bottom lip not to burst out laughing again, something about the glint in Harry’s eyes makes it very hard to resist. 

That doesn’t seem to be the right thing to say though, because she snottily raises her nose in the air. “You know what, I think I’ll get my corn cobs another time, maybe when someone  _ professional  _ is working. I might actually have a word with Mrs. Charles about her employees gossiping during work hours!” The irony of her words seem lost on her as she struts out of the store empty-handed. 

The second the doors slide shut both him and Harry burst out laughing again. It feels so good that tears of relief start rising in Louis’ eyes.

“Oh my god,” he says and wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Am I gonna get fired on the first day?” 

Harry shakes his head. “Nah, everyone knows not to trust her.” He’s awfully pretty when bursting at the seams with laughter. 

“That’s terrible though,” Louis says and sobers up a bit. He seems to be right on time, because that’s when Lily comes out from the back. 

“Hi, Harry. How are you today?” she asks and either she didn’t hear them or she ignores all the noise they just made.

“I’m great, Lil. How about you?” He looks at her warmly and Louis wonders if Harry’s got every woman over fifty in this town wrapped around his finger. It wouldn’t surprise him in the least. 

“Oh you know, the usual. But I got this charming young man working for me now, so at least I don’t have to handle the register anymore.” She pats Louis on the back and he feels oddly proud. 

“Charming indeed,” Harry says and bows his head with a bashful smile. Louis’ cheeks heat up and then even more so when Lily’s mischievous eyes land on him.

“He’s been doing a great job all day, so why don’t you be a gentleman and walk him home, huh? Sure he could use some company that isn’t an old lady for a little while.” 

Louis can’t believe this. He  _ really _ doesn’t need everyone in town to play a misdirected cupid. 

“I’d love to,” Harry says and he looks at Louis with serious eyes. “What do you say?” 

Louis avoids his gaze and shrugs. “If you’re sure it’s alright. I mean, we don’t close for another forty minutes.” He looks over at Lily and she nods with a warm smile.

“I’ve had this store since before you were born, darling. I’m sure I can manage,” she says and pushes him to the side so she can take over.

“I’ll just…” Louis looks at Harry and points his thumbs over his shoulder towards the back. “Meet you outside in a minute.”

-

They walk down the main street, Louis with his hands in his pockets and Harry with his hat in his hands. He must’ve picked it up from his truck while Louis was out back changing out of his work shirt. 

Harry’s slow way of making conversation makes Louis feel both safe and on edge at the same time. His presence is comforting, so achingly familiar in some ways, but there’s something about him that makes Louis feel exposed and fragile. Like there are parts of him that Harry disregards without second thought and parts of him he can see without so much as trying. Louis supposes that in some ways that’s always been true.

He can’t recall how they came to know each other, can’t remember a first impression or hello. It’s as if Harry has always just been  _ around _ , ever since they were kids. As seven-year-olds they used to run around in the backyard, Harry inviting Louis into his fantasy world of cowboys and pirates. A few years later when Louis spent most his time with his friends, either on the soccer field or drinking milkshakes in the park, Harry would sometimes be at the house when he came back home. He’d help Ramona painting the fence or practicing penalty shots in the backyard using Louis’ home made goal consisting of three left over planks and a whole lot of nails. Louis would sometimes tell him to get his own friends or to stop coming over so often, but once in awhile they’d spend the afternoon together, reading comics or laughing about something someone said on the radio. 

As they grew from children to teenagers something shifted between them though. Or maybe something settled. A quiet agreement between the two of them that they never spoke of, but that could still be felt in the specks of dust glimmering in the afternoon sun. Harry’s gaze grew more intense, his eyes lingering infinitely as Louis’ lifted his shirt to wipe sweat from his forehead or when he’d laugh at one of Harry’s silly jokes. And Louis felt every burning second of it. He let it seep into his bones and it poked at something deep inside his wildly-beating teenage heart. 

“You were the first boy I ever kissed,” Harry says after a couple of minutes of silence. “Did you know that?” He peers at Louis as if to gauge his reaction and Louis does his best to seem unaffected. 

“I did know that, yup,” he says and smiles a little sheepishly. Somehow he’s not surprised by Harry bringing it up, even though it’s a memory that probably causes them both some residual embarrassment. 

“We’d stolen that bottle of cherry wine—”

Louis simply cannot stand for such a rewrite of history.

“ _ You’d  _ stolen that bottle of cherry wine and then you stuck your tongue down my throat. I was mortified!” He laughs because it’s true. Mortified and with a rather impressive stiffy in his briefs, but he thinks  _ that _ fact is better off omitted. That along with the fact that he hadn’t thought of his girlfriend until he was making his way back home that night. Along with the way he the morning after forcefully dismissed what happened with Harry as a drunken joke. Those are things he’d rather not remember at all. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry chuckles self deprecatingly before his face grows serious again. “Well… you know I was so over the moon for you back then, Louis. You knew that.” 

Louis coughs at the dryness in his throat and chuckles a little to cover it up.

“I mean, you had a bit of a crush maybe,” he says and nudges Harry in the side. 

“It was more than that though,” Harry says, looking down and shuffling his feet on the dusty road. 

“You never told me, why didn’t you say anything?” Louis asks even though he’s not sure he wants to know. It was too long ago and he would rather not be forced to take responsibility for things he did when he was young and trying to figure things out.

“I was a coward, but also like… you and Cassie, it was…” Harry looks like he’s searching for the right words, the hand not holding his hat gesticulating in front of him. “You were up here and I was somewhere else, like… what would you even have said if I’d asked you out back then?” 

Louis finds it a bit difficult to even picture it happening. They both knew they shared something that wasn’t easily spoken of amongst other boys—a longing and a curiosity that brought them together. But whatever mutual understanding they might have had between them, it was always far too fragile—at least on Louis’ part— to say out loud.

“I don’t know what I would’ve said… I’m not the same person I was back then.” 

He doesn’t want to admit how much it probably would’ve scared him. How jealous he would have been of Harry’s boldness. 

“How about if I asked you out now?” Harry says and Louis thinks he should’ve picked up on where this conversation was heading.

“Is that what you’re doing?” he asks, stalling. 

“Yeah, that’s what I’m doing.” A cheeky but rather shaky smile wavers on Harry’s lips.

“I would have to say no,” Louis says and then he gives Harry another nudge and a small smile. “I’m still a married man. What do you take me for?” 

“Well, not for a date then, just dinner. Married people have to eat to right?” Harry pushes on and now he’s looking straight at Louis. He’s smiling crookedly and it would be so easy to fall for the lure of those dimples. 

Louis is not sure what to say though. He’s just come back after a personal failure that every single person in this town seem to know all about. Miles has still not found her place at school and he’s just spent his first day at his new job. The last thing he needs is people gossiping any more than they already are about his private life. 

“I don’t know Harry,” he says and bites at the inside of his cheek. 

“How about I take you out on the lake, have a nice fish dinner?” Harry suggests and for some reason Louis doesn’t find his insistence annoying but rather endearing. It’s been ages since he went fishing anyways. 

“Alright, we’ll have a nice fish dinner if that’s what you want.” He rolls his eyes mostly for dramatic effect and Harry breaks out into a smile so blinding it rivals the sun. 

\- 

A few days later Louis enthusiastically joins Miles for a game of soccer to distract himself from over-thinking the non-date fish dinner he’s supposed to attend that afternoon. She is running with all her might over the grass, ball rolling infront of her feet, and Louis takes a breather as he considers whether he should go for the ball or put energy into defense. 

Just as he’s about to run up to Miles over by the apple tree, he catches sight of Harry out of the corner of his eye. He’s leaning against the porch banister and is wearing a rather fond look on his face. When he sees Louis looking, he smirks and tips his hat towards him.

“If it ain’t captain Tomlinson himself. And in top form,” Harry says with a wink and Louis rolls his eyes as a flush flames over his cheeks.

“Get a hold of yourself Styles or you’ll have to do all the fishing on your own.”

Harry laughs then, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest. “I’m actually counting on that.”

-

The air in Harry’s car seems to stand completely still and Louis can’t stop fidgeting. There’s a drop of sweat running down between his shoulder blades and he pulls down the window as they drive out of town. He’s thinking about what has happened to this place while he’s been gone—what has happened to its people. Arriving here it seemed as if nothing had changed at all, but as he looks over at Harry he wonders if he might have been wrong. Even if Harry certainly reminds him of the boy he used to know, there is something unfamiliar about him. Something new and unknown. Louis sinks back against the seat, his t-shirt soaking up the perspiration on his back, as he glances over at Harry once again. 

“So what have you been up to all these years?” he asks, knowing it’s a bit of a hefty question—asking someone to recap the past decade or so. 

Harry purses his lips and they go another few moments in silence before he answers. 

“A bit of this and that.”

“Did you live in Smithville the whole time or...?” Louis urges him on. 

“Nah, moved around a bit, but came back a couple years ago. Couldn’t stay away from the stench of cow I guess,” Harry says and winks at Louis before turning his attention back on the road.

Louis rolls his eyes but he can’t help cracking a smile. Harry takes them to the beautiful forest area right outside of town and he tells Louis about a property feud that happened a few years back before the area became open to the public. It’s not until they’re setting up the boat that Louis realizes Harry didn’t actually give him an answer at all. 

\-                                     

The lake glimmers in the afternoon sun and the only sounds surrounding them are birds chirping, the wind gently rustling through the trees, and water clucking against the side of the boat. It’s the perfect picture of serenity, but for some reason Louis can’t seem to settle down. Harry looks perfectly content slowly twirling the reel with one finger as he peers at Louis from under the brim of his hat with an amused smirk. Louis squirms in his seat and feels the urgent need to fill the silence.

“I’m glad we’re not having steak at least. I’m a little rusty with the lasso,” he says and pulls at his fishing rod just for something to do with his hands.

“You’re not so hot at this either,” Harry grins and Louis laughs. 

“What do you mean?!” he squeals. “I’m  _ clearly _ acing this.” 

“Relax Lou,” Harry says. “Just sit back and let the fish come to you.” 

“You know who would love this? Miles would—”

“Hey,” Harry interrupts him, making Louis’ bite his lips closed as Harry captures his gaze with those bright green eyes. “Breathe.” 

“I am breathing,” Louis says, raising his eyebrows and widening his eyes innocently as if he doesn’t know what Harry is talking about. As if his heart isn’t racing just from sitting in a boat out on the lake together with Harry.

“Just listen.” Harry looks out over the water, a content smile on his lips.

Louis follows his gaze and tries to. He really does. But his brain won’t shut up.

“So what  _ have _ you been doing since—” 

Harry’s head snaps back to him, dimples out. “Is it really gonna kill you to be quiet for five whole minutes?” 

Louis rolls his eyes. 

“Ha  _ ha _ .” Then he looks away, pursing his lips. “Kind of like how it kills you to answer a personal question.” 

When they were young Harry used to be like an open book—his thoughts and feelings dancing freely over his cherubic features. Now though, there seems to be some pages sticking together that Louis cannot read. When he tried to lure some information out of Harry on the way out to the lake and while setting up the boat, all he got was a row of deflecting non-answers.

He throws Harry a curious look and the smile on Harry’s face falls slightly as he nods, but apparently he’s picked up on what Louis wants to know. 

“I went to California,” he says and looks out over the water. 

“You didn’t like it there?” Louis probes carefully, suddenly afraid he’ll scare Harry off. 

“I’m here, ain’t I?” Harry lifts an eyebrow and Louis can tell when he’s being turned down.

“Yes, you are.” He doesn’t want to push it anymore so he gives him a small smile and drops it. At least for now. 

“Yeah, I am.” 

-

Harry finally manages to catch a couple of fish (with absolutely no help from Louis). As he sets up the fire Louis wanders around the campsite. He wonders what happened in California and why Harry chose to come back here once he’d left. It’s not like Harry would have a cheating wife to run away from. But maybe an ex-boyfriend? Somehow it’s hard to picture it, but Louis doesn’t know all that much about Harry when it comes down to it. He’s not sure why that bothers him. 

“I’m sure the school would love for you to come show the kids some moves on the soccer field,” Harry says out of nowhere and Louis looks back at him with an amused smile and furrowed brows.

“What now?” 

“You know, if you wanted to do something besides manning the register,” Harry explains. There’s nothing but sincerity in his eyes and Louis can’t recall the last time someone looked at him like that. Like he was capable, like his experience actually meant something.

“I haven’t played in a long time,” he says, cheeks burning a little as he scratches at the back of his neck.

“I’m sure you’re better than the current coach—you remember Graham Ives right?” 

Louis’ memory conjures up a picture of a tall, skinny boy with a permanent frown on his face, doing laps around the soccer field back in high school.

“He’s the gym coach?” he asks and he can’t help the grin spreading on his face. Poor sodding kids, that can’t be fun.

Harry nods and grins too. “Just an idea.” He shrugs and then he goes back to focusing on the fish. After a few of moments he coughs a bit and looks up at Louis. “You have a really great smile you know.” 

Louis looks back at him deadpan, doing his best not to give in to the twitch at the corner of his lips.

“Ah, better not show it to me.” Harry smiles. “I might enjoy it too much.” 

Of course that has Louis cracking up again and he shakes his head slightly at Harry’s antics. 

“Come here,” Harry says then, voice gravelly and warm. Louis tries to interpret the look in his eyes and hesitates. He’s afraid he’s giving Harry too much. It would be so easy to let himself be swept up in Harry’s charm and silly jokes. “Just come sit by me,” Harry coaxes by gesturing at the blanket-covered tree trunk he’s sitting on. 

Louis moves slowly towards him and sits down—Harry’s eyes following his every move.

“You wanna help?” Harry asks, offering him the stick he’s using to grill the fish. 

“Nope,” Louis says, the corners of his lips twitching yet again.

“Oh, oh! Don’t smile now.” Harry nudges his side. “I might get used to it.” 

“Oh god, _ shut up _ ,” Louis rolls his eyes before he bursts out laughing. 

The sound echoes over the quiet lake and Harry’s deep chuckle joins his light cackle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed! ❤
> 
> You can also find me on [tumblr.](http://gaycousinlarry.tumblr.com/) I’d love to chat! 
> 
> And here's a tumblr post if you want to [reblog.](http://gaycousinlarry.tumblr.com/post/170338929653/something-in-the-way-written-by-momentofclarity) Thank you!


	4. Chapter 4

Louis is sitting on the porch one day when Miles comes home from school. He has the day off from the store and he’s helping his mother peel potatoes for dinner. Miles is panting as if she’s been running and Louis looks at her with curious eyes as she stomps up the porch steps.

“Hey Miley Piley, you been running?” he asks and pokes at her side with the potato peeler once she’s made her way over to him.

“She hates me, Dad!” Miles holds her side as if she’s got a cramp, her eyes wide and upset. 

Worry instantly gathers at the pit of Louis’ stomach, his mouth turning down in a frown. “Who?” he asks and it comes out rather offended, like he can’t believe someone would hate his magnificent genius of a child. 

“Dolores! I hit her in the face with a ball and now she hates me!” 

“Wait, what now? Why did you hit her in the face?” Louis is  _ not _ following.

“By accident! She chased me all the way to the creek!” She points behind her in the direction of the creek and Louis follows her finger with his eyes.

“Why did she chase you if it was an accident?” He looks back at her.

“Because she  _ hates _ me,  _ god _ Dad!” Miles bursts out, clearly frustrated that Louis can’t seem to keep up.

“You want me to talk to her parents? I’m sure we can figure this out,” Louis asks because he’s fairly sure that’s the kind of thing a parent should do in this situation even though there’s no guarantee the parents will be any more understanding than their daughter. Kids tend to take after their parents after all. 

“I’d rather  _ die,”  _ Miles pouts but still looks at him expecting him to do something about the whole mess.

“Hey now, don’t talk like that,” Louis says and pulls her into his side. “I’m sure nothing’s going to happen, you’re going to be fine, honey.”

“If she kills me, it’s going to be all your fault,” Miles mutters into his neck as she sinks down on his lap. Louis hugs her close and wonders who on earth taught her such dramatics.

As they get ready for dinner the phone rings and Ramona shines up as she answers the phone.

“Oh hi, Harry! Yes, yes of course, just a sec,” she practically  _ twitters _ as she looks at Louis with a gleam in her eyes. “Harry’s asking for you, darling.” 

She holds out the phone towards him and Louis rolls his eyes as he accepts it. Ramona hovers just by his side until he glares at her and waves her away. She’s giggling with delight before she’s even left the room. 

Harry asks if he wants to go out for a bit and after having had his mother on his heels the whole afternoon it actually sounds like a rather good idea. After dinner Harry picks him up in his truck; Harry’s got freshly-washed hair combed back over his head and a blue plaid shirt tucked inside his jeans. They roll through town, the night clear and the air fresh against their faces as Harry has pulled back the roof. Louis expects him to make a stop at Daisy’s ice cream parlor or maybe at the diner, but as they go down a dirt road and the trees start clearing up in front of them Louis almost gapes as he catches up.

“You taking me to old man Linton’s make out spot? I thought you were taking me out for ice cream!” Louis says and looks at Harry’s satisfied smirk. “What would your mother say?” 

Harry chuckles a bit and throws Louis’ a glance. “She’d probably say, ‘Way to go Harry.’”

“Really?” Louis lifts an eyebrow at him and Harry just laughs.

“Yeah,  _ really _ .” 

Harry parks the car in front of the old outdoor theatre movie screen. The grass is overgrown and the paint on the old ticket booth has faded under the sun, but there’s still something quite magical about the place. It’s almost as if the smell of popcorn and cotton candy lingers in the air, the erratic heartbeats of nervous teenagers pulsing through the atmosphere. 

“What a lovely night,” Louis says for lack of something better. He leans his head back and looks up at the starry sky.

“Mhmm,” Harry says and Louis can feel his gaze burn into him. 

“This place hasn’t changed at all,” Louis says before a second thought pops into his head. “Not that I was here much; Cassie thought it was tacky.” 

That was so typically her, always rising above what normal teenagers did, always lifting a disapproving eyebrow at rowdy parties and fumbling hands in the dark. 

“She thought spending the night with you, making out, was tacky?” Harry huffs out in disbelief. 

“Don’t think  _ I  _ was the issue really… she just… she had these ideas about like, good girls or whatever.” Louis shrugs. It was just who she always was. He hasn't thought too much about it.

Harry waits for a beat before answering. “I would’ve been a bad girl for you,” he says, voice deep and serious but the second Louis meets his eyes they both burst out laughing. 

“Oh god, grow up,” Louis says and slaps him lightly on the shoulder, both of them giggling still. 

“Don’t you feel young though, sitting here in this truck? I feel like I’m sixteen again,” Harry says and they both fall silent. 

Suddenly there’s nothing but their breaths filling the air and Louis’ heart does that ridiculous rabbiting thing again. Harry reaches out slowly, his fingers dragging over Louis’ forehead to push his bangs back behind his ear. 

Louis shuffles away, his breath caught in his throat. “Oh give it a rest, Harry,” he mutters, looking out the windshield. 

Harry keeps looking at him though and after a while Louis can’t help but looking back at him. His heart practically thunders in his chest when he sees the look in Harry’s eyes. Those bright green eyes shine with longing, his eyes flicking over Louis’ face as if he’s trying to take it all in… like every freckle and lash is worth noticing. 

He reaches over again, slowly letting his knuckles caress down Louis’ cheek and then he’s moving closer, sliding over the seat until he’s pressed up close. Louis knows he should move away, should stop this before anything else happens, but he finds it hard to move. The moment seems so surreal that he could easily let it slip by. Just let it happen. 

“I’d never kissed anyone before Cassie,” Louis whispers and he doesn’t know why that seems like something important to share with the one other person who ever did kiss him.

“Did you say something about kissing?” Harry asks and with the next breath Louis bursts into giggles. Fresh air fills his lungs as if he’d been holding his breath.

Harry’s cheeks blossom pink and he smiles bashfully. “Did I really say that?” he wonders but then he moves closer still. He leans down and places a soft kiss against Louis’ neck, his pillowy lips brushing against skin, and Louis feels his throat close up in panic. 

He instantly pulls away and jumps out of the car, moving through the tall grass until he reaches an old swing set. The rusty chains groan under his weight and he carefully pushes away with his feet in the sand. Harry comes up to him, a regretful look on his face and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

Harry catches the chains in his hands and gives the swing a small push. He sighs deeply and if the world wasn’t so quiet around them Louis probably would’ve missed the way he whispers “ _ Louis Tomlinson _ ” under his breath.

-

It’s been a long day at the store when Louis finally makes his way home. He’s been restocking and unpacking new deliveries all day and he’s  _ so _ ready for a cool shower and a cup of tea. He finds Ramona in the kitchen preparing dinner and he asks her where Miles is.

“Upstairs. She’s in quite the mood,” his mother says with an exasperated sigh, as if she’s tried every trick in the book and still not succeeded. Louis’ brows furrow at that and he moves up the stairs to go look for his daughter. 

She’s sprawled out on the bed, hugging her pillow to her chest and wearing the biggest pout he’s ever seen. 

“Hi, sweetheart. What’s going on?” He settles down next to her, pulling her close to his side as he strokes her wispy hair from her forehead. 

“Dolores really hates me. She’s never going to leave me alone,” Miles explains and sighs heavily.

“She’s still giving you a hard time?” Knots tie in Louis’ belly—the thought of anyone hurting Miles is devastating to him. 

“She calls me Bug Eye and today she tripped me in front of the whole class. Look!” Miles shows him a bruise on her elbow before falling back down on the bed again. Anger shoots through him at the sight and he thinks he might have a word with this girl’s parents after all. But first things first. 

“I’ll be right back, okay honey?” he says and gives her a kiss on the top of her head. Then he scrambles out of bed and out of the room to get everything ready. Wondering how he’s supposed to cheer his daughter up, he just remembered how he and Ramona used to dance down in the living room, way back when he was young enough not to “know any better” _. _ Ramona would indulge him and help him dress up as he put up shows in front of the whole family (that is, before his father moved away and his sister became a grumpy teenager). He still remembers those moments fondly and he thinks he knows just the thing to put a smile back on Miles’ face. 

A little while later he’s summoned Ramona from downstairs and they’ve got everything ready for mission Cheer Miles Up. The first step is placing the portable cassette player on his old skateboard and pushing it inside Miles’ room as “I Can’t Get Next To You” by The Temptations starts playing on the highest volume. 

With the first few notes Louis enters her room clad in a feather boa, his hair in two tiny ponytails, hands covered in light pink ladies’ gloves, and with two big circles of red lipstick painted on his cheeks. He dances his way inside the room, rolling his hips and lifting his eyebrows playfully in time with the song. He’s got a wooden spoon raised in front of him as a microphone and when the first verse starts up he lip-syncs into it with all his might. 

_ I can turn a gray sky blue _ __  
_ I can make it rain, whenever I wanted to _ _  
_ __ Oh, I

Miles looks at him sourly from where her face is mushed against the pillow, but as Ramona makes an entrance, a big pair of sunglasses perched on her head and using a toilet brush as a microphone, Miles’ lips twitch. 

_ I can build a castle from a single grain of sand _ _  
_ _ I can make a ship sail, uh, on dry land _

Louis twirls his mother around and when he lets Ramona go Miles stands up on the bed with a wide grin on her face. By the time they’ve made it to the  _ Ooooh ooooh’s  _ Miles is singing along happily and Louis grabs hold over her, spinning her around in circles as they laugh with all they’ve got. 

By the end of the song all three of them are red faced and fall onto the bed in a giggling heap. With his mother at his side and his daughter on his chest Louis thinks things might work out in the end. If he’s lucky. And right now it feels like he is.

\- 

The dance routine changes something in the Tomlinson (Stewart) household. Over breakfast Ramona tells them a story that has both Louis and Miles hiccupping with laughter and in the next few of days Louis only wants to strangle his mother a couple of times at most. 

In a way, he and his mother always were a team. Him being the youngest and her being a single mother after his father left. He doesn’t exactly know when that started to change, but he wouldn’t mind if they got at least part of it back. 

So on Friday when Ramona asks him to go to the  _ Twistin’ and Twirlin’ Dance Night _ with her, he finds it difficult to say no. Miles ends up going over to the neighbors’ for a few hours as Louis accompanies his mom down to the Cherry Hill dance hall. He’s wearing another one of his blue button ups, the top most buttons undone and with a white undershirt peeking out. With blue jeans and a brown leather belt he almost fits in, even though Ramona couldn’t make him wear a cowboy hat. She on the other hand  _ is _ . With her white hair styled in curls coming out from under the hat, a black embroidered shirt, and red lipstick, she’s a right handsome woman and he thinks she might get more dance offers than him. He can’t say he’d mind. 

There are longs rows of glowing lanterns put up in the ceiling and there’s a live band belting out what Louis’ presumes to be the latest country hits. People are sitting along long tables drinking beer and chatting, most of them decked out in wide-brimmed hats. 

“Ah, would you look at that, even Mrs. Charles made it out this evening!” Ramona says and rudely points at Louis’ boss. Louis just smiles awkwardly when Mrs. Charles gives them a wave.

They’re sitting at the end of a table, sipping their beers and people watching. Unsurprisingly it doesn’t take long for his mother to locate Harry in the crowd. Across the room he’s sitting with some people Louis doesn’t recognize and he waves at them with a wide smile on his face. Louis waves back and his eyes linger just a few moments longer than necessary. 

Harry is wearing a white shirt that contrasts gorgeously with the tan skin of his neck, his white Stetson, as per usual, perched on his head. He cleans up real nice, that’s for sure. 

Before long, Louis’ earlier prediction turns out to be right. After only half a pint a man, or rather a boy who must be several years younger than Louis even, comes up to Ramona with a toothy smile and asks her to dance. She only pretends to resist for a few moments before joining him on the dance floor and Louis smiles at them as they start moving across the floor in time with the music. 

“Louis! Louis Tomlinson! It’s me Suzy!”

Louis looks up towards the bright voice and sees his old high school friend Suzy Burns and her  _ very _ pregnant belly. 

“Oh, hi!” he says and stands up to give her a hug. “How are you?” 

He backs away to look at her and she cracks up and waves her hands around her front. “Well!” she says and he smiles at her obvious excitement. 

“Yeah! Wow, that’s incredible.” 

“Baby’s due in six weeks,” Suzy says proudly.

“Yeah, I can _see_ _that_ ,” he grins and they take a seat. “I thought you moved to Houston?”

Even after he moved away he heard things about what happened to his high school friends on a semi-regular basis, either through Cassie or his mother. 

“I’m just in for the weekend, Momma told me you were in town! And you, mister, look incredible. That’s just the way to have Cassie come crawling back to you!” she says and winks at him. 

Louis flusters, not sure how to respond. Why does everyone he meets seem so hell bent on talking about his cheating wife? “Ah eh, I don’t think…” he trails off before she interrupts him.

“Oh, would you look at that, there’s Harry Styles,” she leans forward over the table, as well as she can with her belly in the way. “I heard he lost that great job in California because he wouldn’t work fast enough.” 

Louis barely hears her though, because Harry is looking straight at him as he makes his way through the dancing crowd. There’s a smile creeping up over his face, his dimples getting deeper with each step, and there really is something special about him under the glowing lights. 

As he reaches them, Harry leans against a beam, grin now full blown. “Hey,” he says, ignoring Suzy’s presence as his eyes glimmer.

Louis’ belly bubbles with something warm and a silly grin spreads over his face. “Hey.”

“Honor me?” Harry asks and a surprised burst of laughter escapes Louis. 

“What?”

“I want to dance with you,” Harry says, a little louder this time. 

As it hits Louis that Harry is serious, he looks up at him in awe. Suzy laughs beside him, as if the thought is utterly absurd, and in a way she’s right. Only Harry Styles would come up with such an idea. Only Harry Styles would have the guts to.

“I can’t dance,” Louis says and tries to laugh it off but Harry just leans forward and takes his hand.

“Excuse us,” he says and flashes Suzy a smile, effectively shutting her up.

Harry pulls Louis with him to a free spot and Louis just follows him with his heart beating up in his throat. “I’m serious Harry, I can’t—”

“Dance is just a conversation between two people,” Harry drawls out in his deep syrupy voice. He puts a hand on Louis’ shoulder and pulls him closer, his other hand capturing Louis’ hand in his. “Talk to me,” he says, nudging Louis carefully with his shoulder, and then they start moving. 

Louis puts his hand at Harry’s waist not to lose balance and then it’s just a matter of keeping up. Harry keeps smiling at him and Louis finds it difficult not to smile back. People stare at them, but Harry is a great dancer, so sturdy and warm, and as long as all they do is stare—Louis finds that he doesn’t really care.

As the rhythm slows down and blends into a new song, Harry is suddenly just a little bit closer. Louis’ heart hammers against his ribcage, his breath suddenly coming out in erratic puffs. The thing is… Harry is looking at him like he’s the center of the universe. As if he’s the most perfect thing who’s ever walked on this earth and Louis needs to break his gaze not to lose his breath completely. He rests his head against Harry’s shoulder and Harry’s large hand slides down to caress his back. 

“Breathe, it’s just a dance,” Harry whispers into his hair and Louis takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for just a moment. 

It was a long time ago that Louis was close like this to another person. Him and Cassie were never really the tactile types and even when they did touch, it was always… controlled and measured. A gentle hand on the arm or a soft kiss at the temple. It was never like this—fragile and encompassing all at once. 

-

There’s something in the way Harry gently guides Louis on the way out to his truck, a hand at the small of his back. Something in the way the air feels like warm silk against Louis’ skin and the night sky shifts in deep velvet. It’s something in the way the music softly flows through the air and random outbursts of laughter come from the dance hall behind them. Something that makes Louis wish that it would never end, that he could stay in Harry’s smile and the breeze through his hair as Harry drives them back through town. 

Harry parks the car in front of a large house, the wood still unpainted and smelling of fresh sawdust. The tall trees and lush bushes throw shadows over the dewy grass, making the yard look magical in the moonlight. 

“Be kind—it’s a work in progress,” Harry says as he opens the front door and steps to the side to let Louis in.

He gives Harry a reassuring smile as he passes him, even though he’s not really sure what to expect. When Harry turns on the light Louis’ belly swoops to the floor and he gasps quietly at the sight before him. 

There are uncovered walls and big sheets of plastic over the floors, but all Louis can see is the wide multi-colored windows high up in the ceiling and the gorgeous wooden panels by the stairs leading up to the second floor. 

Up on the hallway wall are blueprints of the whole house and Louis stares at them in awe, his fingers tracing across the smooth paper. He can feel Harry looking at him but he’s too busy having his mind blown away to pay him any attention. They go through to what must be the kitchen, the skeleton of high cupboards and wide counters filling the space as if they were carved out of a single piece of wood.

“19 th century Texas pine,” Harry says.

“Love the way it smells,” Louis mumbles as his fingers caress over the planks lying on a workbench. It smells like home, like a walk in the forest, and being cuddled up in bed all at once.

Harry brushes past him and picks up two pieces of wood. “Look at this.” He puts the two pieces together like a puzzle. “Tongue groove,” he says and looks up at Louis. 

“What now?” Louis says and smiles, wrinkling his nose a bit because he has no idea what Harry just said.

Harry’s dimple flashes in his cheek before he turns serious again, looking at Louis with earnest eyes. “They’re cut to fit perfectly together,” he explains and Louis’ heart does a double take. He wonders how someone like Harry can exist in this world. Someone with so much vulnerable sincerity should’ve relinquished to bitterness ages ago. 

Yet here he is. 

“You want to see the porch?” Harry asks then as he puts the wood back and Louis grins, nodding.

“You and your bloody porches,” he says and Harry snorts. 

They walk through to the back of the house, Harry’s hand yet again resting softly against Louis’ lower back. Louis pushes at a screen door and walks out onto a large wooden deck. 

“It’s gonna have a great view once I get rid of that trailer. It will wrap around the whole house,” Harry tells him as he follows behind Louis inspecting the house from the outside. 

Louis takes in the surroundings, the yard showered in a silver glow. He’s a bit stunned to be honest. He doesn’t know what he expected when Harry asked if he wanted to see his house. Maybe a small cottage or yeah, why not a trailer. But this. It’s so magnificent; not just because of the size, but also because of how even though it’s not close to finished, it’s the most beautiful house Louis has ever seen. The attention to detail and high quality is apparent even to his untrained eye.

He walks up to what looks like an old swing sofa resting on the edge of the porch floor. “This is nice,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest, all of a sudden inexplicably nervous.

“It’s called a swing,” Harry drawls, cheeky smile blooming over his cheeks. 

Louis shrugs. “Maybe you could hang it?” he says and looks at Harry with wide eyes, like he just came up with a brilliant idea.

Harry honks out a laugh, the back of his hand coming up to brush over his mouth bashfully as if to cover it up. “Great idea! Can’t believe I hadn’t thought of that.”

“I’m quite knowledgeable when it comes to these things you know,” Louis says and hops up on the swing, feeling the smooth worn down seat against the palm of his hand. 

“Had no idea, should’ve brought you in as a consultant first thing,” Harry grins at him and Louis tries to ignore the flutter in his belly as he lies down, resting his head against the curved armrest.

“It’s quite comfortable as well,” Louis says because he can’t resist, lifting a suggestive eyebrow at Harry. 

Harry bows his head as if he’s flustered but plays along. “Great expertise, that.”

Louis bites his lip in contemplation, not knowing if the question he wants to ask is one that Harry will give another non-answer to. He tries for the oblivious approach, hoping it won’t put Harry off. “So who’s the architect?” 

Harry’s head snaps up at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Are you kidding? That’s half the fun.” 

With his suspicions confirmed, Louis treads on carefully, desperately wanting to put pieces together that he cannot seem to fit. “You go around Smithville painting houses and renovating my Momma’s porch, when you can do _this?_ Like… you could do _so_ much more.”

“Is that so?” Harry asks, shoveling his feet on the ground. Louis can tell he’s not impressed by Louis’ compliment. 

“You know what I mean,” he tries. 

“Yeah, I know…” Harry turns his back against him, looking out over the garden. ”You’re talking about the American dream. Spending your life trying to make it big, so you lose sight of what you really wanted to begin with, but there you are, the picket fence, the perfect _wife…”_ He turns back to face Louis again, his eyes burning with conviction. “That was never for me.”

Louis swallows against the dryness in his throat, wondering if Harry is criticizing the way Louis has lived his life specifically or just the concept in general. Maybe it’s the same thing. Maybe it doesn’t matter.

“What was then?” he croaks out, still adamant about getting Harry to talk.

“I just…” Harry takes a deep breath, as if he’s bracing himself. “I always just wanted to do things right… that’s why I came back from California, so I could live how I wanted. I figured out of everybody, you could understand that.”

Louis thinks he understands what Harry is getting at, that feeling of never quite being able to fully be yourself. 

“I think I do but… wasn’t that…” Louis starts, not sure how to phrase things. Not sure which stepping-stones are safe and which will have him falling down into the dark. “I mean, wasn’t it easier, in California? To just… be?” 

Even though it didn’t make much of a difference in how he lived his life, Louis remembers the relief he felt when he moved to Chicago. As if the possibility (even though it remained unexplored) to meet others like him, to talk freely about who he is, made it a little easier to breathe.

Harry takes a moment to answer and Louis wonders if Harry struggles just as much as he is with finding the right words. “I could only be part of me there as well. This is my home, if I can’t be myself here then… there’s no point.”

“I envy you that,” Louis says, thinking about how lost he’s felt in the past few weeks. Like he’s got no sense of the direction, no idea where he wants to go. “Everything you love is right here—” 

“Not everything Louis…” Harry interrupts him and Louis’ chest suddenly feels tighter. 

He’s just one man but somehow Harry seems to be able to carry more emotion in a single sentence than Louis has been able to express in his whole life. Even though Harry doesn’t actually say it—the meaning of his words couldn’t be clearer as he looks at Louis like he holds the whole world in the palm of his right hand. 

Louis doesn’t know what to say, his breath stuttering in his throat and Harry’s hand comes up to caress over his arm. Something warm seeps through his veins and pools in the pit of his belly. The night is silent around them, nothing but his own shallow breaths filling his ears as Harry’s tongue darts out to wet his own bottom lip.

In a way, getting to see Harry like this feels a bit like a treasure. Where there is usually cheeky smiles and ridiculous jokes, there’s now nothing but raw honesty. It’s something so real it knocks the air out of Louis’ lungs and he wants to keep hold of it. Wants to cherish the way Harry’s Adam’s apple bobs in his throat, the way his hand trembles as he leans in closer, fingers brushing lightly over Louis’ cheek.

“You’re so beautiful,” Harry whispers. 

Louis knows he should pull away, knows he should get out of here and back to his daughter. Should be responsible and think about how his actions may affect those around him. Maybe he should think about how absolutely terrifying the prospect of laying himself bare for new eyes should be. 

But his skin feels electrified just from one simple touch. The pads of Harry’s fingers warm and rough against his skin. 

“Harry…” he says weakly, as if that’s all the resistance he can muster up. 

Harry’s eyes dart between Louis’; uncertainty, hope, and want swirl in their dark reflection. When Harry leans down to press his lips against Louis’, there’s nothing there that reminds Louis of their teenaged fumbling. His hand comes up to cradle Louis’ neck, his lips soft and wet, and Louis’ heart races in his chest, blood pumping so fast a whooshing sound fills his ears. 

And Louis wants more. 

He sits up to make it easier to deepen the kiss, making room for Harry on the swing beside him. His fingers curl into the front of Harry’s shirt, pulling him closer as his tongue darts out to swipe at Harry’s bottom lip. Harry opens up for him, their tongues carefully meeting, and the tender touch shoots a current of sizzling heat up Louis’ spine. 

Harry moans softly against him, his large hands curling over Louis’ waist, pulling him closer, and Louis lifts himself up so he’s straddling Harry on the swing. Once he’s seated across Harry’s lap, he leans his forehead against Harry’s, both of them catching their breath as Louis cards his fingers through the short hair at the back of Harry’s neck. Harry’s eyes flutter close and puffs of air hits Louis’ lips. 

Louis kisses him again, feeling the urgent need to delve deeper, to find every secret and every lost treasure that this man carries. Harry pulls him even closer, arms circling around his back. 

“God, Louis,” he whispers, voice deep and wavering. 

They may kiss each other for different reasons—Harry bringing years worth of longing into it as Louis’ body vibrates with the need to feel someone real against him. To be touched with love and wonder. And Harry is real. His lips trail kisses up Louis’ neck and leaves him vibrating out to the tips of his fingers as he tries to undo the buttons of Harry’s shirt. More smooth tan skin gets revealed with each button and Louis wants to taste it, wants the earthy saltiness against his tongue. As the last button is undone, he pushes the shirt off of Harry’s shoulders and he sits back for a moment to appreciate the view. 

Harry’s got broad shoulders that dip into a narrow waist, his skin tanned from hours working under the Texan sun. His dark nipples are drawn tight in the evening air and Louis’ swallows down the thickness in his throat, arousal shooting through him as his thumbs brush over the hard nubs. Harry lets out a raspy moan at the sensation. 

Then Louis gives in to temptation, unable to resist any longer as he plants his mouth against the smooth skin, teeth grazing over collarbones as his fingers press into the strong muscle of Harry’s chest. Just feeling Harry against him like this drives him wild with want, heat pulses through him and makes his cock fatten up in his jeans.

“Let me…” Harry nearly whimpers, his hands pulling at Louis’ shirt tucked inside his jeans. Louis sits up for a moment, roughly pulling his shirt up over his head, leaving him with just his undershirt on.

Harry’s hands caress up the naked skin of his arms, his eyes seemingly drinking in every bit of Louis they can find. Louis flushes under the attention and leans forward to capture Harry’s lips in another kiss. They kiss deep and slow, their tongues slide together and pull rumbling moans from their chests. Harry’s hands caresses down Louis’ back and when they slide down to grab hold of his ass, Louis pulses with heat. It’s unbelievably arousing to have Harry’s hands digging into his flesh, the way Harry seems mad with want and pulls Louis up against him. 

“You have no idea…” Harry groans and then he kisses Louis again. 

Being so enraptured by the heat and the wet pressure of Harry’s mouth, it takes Louis a while to pick up on the fact that they’re stalling, unknowingly or not. And that’s when it hits him—the reality of the fact that he’s never slept with anyone except Cassie. That he has no idea what Harry might want, how to touch someone you haven’t been touching regularly since you were a teenager. Flashes of Harry pressed up against other men goes through his head and he wonders how many lovers Harry has had. How well he knows what he likes, what he wants,  _ how _ he wants it. 

But then he sees the desperate look in Harry’s eyes, feels the way his chest trembles beneath his hands and he thinks they might be on the same page here. Both of them heading towards something unknown, simply because it’s them and not anyone else. 

“What do you want?” Harry asks softly, his thumb coming up to swipe over Louis’ bottom lip. “I’ll give you anything, just tell me, I-I want to give you everything.” 

It’s so much—the way Harry pours his heart out with those words. So much more than just a wish; a confession of years of longing. 

“I want to see you,” Louis decides, dizzy with want because he can feel Harry long and hard against his thigh, and his mouth waters at the prospect of seeing him flushed and bare. 

Harry just nods, eagerly agreeing even to Louis’ vague request.

Louis kisses him once more, hard but close-lipped, and then he slides down from Harry’s lap, his knees hitting the ground between Harry’s feet. 

“Oh god,” Harry lets out and Louis can see his stomach clench as he looks down at him. . 

Gathering every ounce of bravado he can, Louis smirks at the reaction and reaches over to open up Harry’s belt, sliding the smooth leather out of the hoops for dramatic effect. With another quick flash of a grin up at Harry’s stunned face, he goes for the buttons of Harry’s jeans and his mouth waters all over again. He can clearly see the outline of Harry’s cock along the muscle of his strong thigh, and it must be hurting to be trapped like that, his jeans tight with the pressure. The thing that sends another set of hot pulses out through Louis’ groin is the  _ heat _ of it, the way he can feel how hot Harry is even through the fabric of his jeans. The last button is right at the base of Harry’s cock and Louis grows desperate with the need to feel it in his hand. He pulls at Harry’s white briefs and Harry lifts his hips up to pull both them and his jeans down to mid thigh. His cock slaps up against his stomach the second it’s free from the confines of his pants and the sight is almost obscene. It’s big. Big and hard and so fucking  _ hot _ , with dark hair curling around the base and getting sparser over the pale skin of his thighs. 

Harry puts a finger under Louis’ chin and that’s when Louis realizes he’s been staring, mouth hanging open. “You don’t- you don’t have to…” Harry says and shakes his head slightly but Louis just shrugs him off. 

“I want to,” he says and his voice comes out raspy. 

He lets his fingers slowly come in contact with the warm skin, following a thick vein running up the underside of Harry’s cock. Harry’s thighs tense at the contact and Louis leans forward, nosing carefully against the dewy skin. He swipes his tongue out to wet his lips and accidentally gets a taste of Harry’s skin. Harry breathes out harshly above him, so Louis does it again, this time with purpose and Harry is salty on his tongue, the smell musky and heavy and somehow unbelievingly sexy. 

Encouraged by Harry’s erratic breathing, Louis drags his tongue up along his hard length, a broad swipe that gets pointed as he feels the head of Harry’s cock beneath his foreskin. Without thinking too much about it Louis curls his hand around Harry’s cock, carefully sliding it down to expose the already wet head and the sight has him gasping. 

Louis is burning with arousal. Burning with Harry. With being on his knees like this and yet feeling like he has all the power—a cock in his hand and the taste of it on his tongue. 

He sits up a little more until his lips connect with the wetness at Harry’s slit and Harry’s knuckles go white as he grabs hold of the seat. With his heart beating rapidly in his chest, Louis opens his mouth and lets the head of Harry’s cock slide between his lips. The taste of his precome is strong, slightly bitter but with sweet tinge. Careful not to use his teeth, Louis glides his tongue along the ridge of the head, his hand sliding up the shaft slowly and then down again, getting a feel of Harry heavy and hard. He breathes deeply through his nose, not used to his mouth being filled like this, but he tries to focus. Tries to think of what would feel good and he flattens his tongue as he sucks lightly, the wet silkiness throbbing on his tongue with the action as Harry lets out a wet gasp. 

Louis pulls back to look up at him and garner his reaction. Harry is staring down at him, mouth bitten red and shining with spit, eyes dark and hazy. “ _ Lou,” _ is all he says and he sounds broken, at a loss for words.

A moment later he shakes his head slightly and then he reaches his hand down to Louis’ neck, carefully pulling him up again. Louis stands up on wobbly legs and tries to understand where Harry wants him, wondering why Harry didn’t want him to continue. 

Harry reaches for his hand and pulls him down on the swing, his eyes flicker over Louis and soon he reaches out his hand to rest against Louis’ cheek, leaning in for a kiss. “You make me feel so out of control,” Harry whispers against his lips. “I just, I want to last. I want to… want to make you feel good.”

“You are,” Louis admits instantly, not wanting Harry to doubt it for a second. “Really good.”

With a small smile, Harry brushes Louis’ fringe off his forehead with the tips of his fingers. “You’re so gorgeous, so perfect.”

Louis doesn’t know how to answer that, everything that Harry says is filled with such marvel that Louis feels undeserving of it, so he leans in and kisses him again. 

“I’ll make you feel so good,” Harry says. “I’ll show you.” Then he carefully pushes Louis down so he’s lying against the armrest again, and his hands travel down Louis’ torso until he can push them up underneath his undershirt. 

He slides back on the seat so he can nuzzle against Louis’ hard cock in his jeans and Louis closes his eyes and takes a deep breath at the feeling, preparing himself for whatever Harry will give him. 

“You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about this,” Harry says as his fingers work slowly on his belt before starting on the buttons of his jeans. “I’ve wanted you,  _ god _ , Louis, I’ve wanted you.” 

Louis grinds his jaw at the words because he’d rather not think about that. Doesn’t want to think about the past and what they’ve been to each other, what they haven’t been. Just wants this moment to be what is, to feel connected to another person for the first time in a really long time. To feel connected to Harry. 

When Harry touches his burning skin and sinks down on his cock, lush lips wet and so good it’s almost surreal, Louis lets out a sigh of relief and pleasure. There’s nothing searching about the way Harry touches and tastes him, only hunger and determination. Harry sinks down on his cock as far as he can go, his hand holding him steady at the base. Soon enough he’s got Louis a moaning, blabbering mess, squirming against the seat and dragging his hands through Harry’s hair. 

“Oh god, oh fuck, yes, yes, god, that’s so good…” he moans and as he gets closer and closer to the edge, his balls drawn up tight and his belly curling with heat, he wants to feel Harry in his hand again. “Come’re, let me—let me touch you.” 

Harry pulls off of him and wipes obscenely at his wet mouth before he crawls up to lean over Louis, carefully lying down on his side next to him on the narrow swing. He kisses him, the taste of Louis still on his tongue, and their hands travel over naked skin, grasping at each other. Finally they capture the other in their hands, Harry’s hand slow and sure over Louis’ wet length and Louis’ hand eager and hurried over Harry’s. 

When Harry’s thumb swipe back and forth against the underside of the head of Louis’ cock something unlocks inside, pleasure shooting through him in strong waves and with a silent gasp Louis comes in thick spurts over Harry’s hand. Only moments later he feels where Harry has taken hold of his own cock and is quickly bringing himself to the edge with his lips against Louis’ temple. “You’re so perfect, so gorgeous, everything I’ve ever wanted,” Harry whispers and then he comes too, wet and hot against Louis’ hip. 

They take a few moments to catch their breaths and then Harry leaves him with a small peck on his lips. “I’ll be right back.”

He comes back a couple minutes later, a wet washcloth in hand. Louis sits up and gives him a rather self-conscious smile as he thanks him. After cleaning up and trying to sort himself out as best as possible Louis doesn’t know what to do with the wet cloth, feeling out of place and awkward now that the heat has simmered down. Harry takes the cloth from him and discards it somewhere on the porch before he sits down on the swing again. 

“Come here,” he says and opens his arms towards Louis. When Louis hesitates he nods his head and gives him a dimpled smile, as if he knows about Louis’ weakness. “Come on.”

Louis scooches over to him and lets Harry envelope him in his arms, pulling Louis against him until they’re lying back on the swing, Louis’ cheek resting on Harry’s naked chest. Soon enough Louis’ eyelids start falling shut as he listens to Harry’s steady breathing and soaks up the heat from his body. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy,” Harry says then and kisses the top of Louis’ head. Louis just keeps breathing slowly, hoping that Harry will assume he’s already sleeping. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed! ❤
> 
> You can also find me on [tumblr.](http://gaycousinlarry.tumblr.com/) I’d love to chat! 
> 
> And here's a tumblr post if you want to [reblog.](http://gaycousinlarry.tumblr.com/post/170338929653/something-in-the-way-written-by-momentofclarity) Thank you!


	5. Chapter 5

Waking up is one of the most surreal experiences of Louis’ life. A few rays of sun shine through the thick crown canopy above him, as birds chirp along with the gentle breeze against his skin. When he opens his eyes his sense of touch and sight come together and makes him realize just  _ how _ surreal the situation is. 

His skin is currently plastered against a very broad, very naked chest, and that if anything, makes him feel like he’s just waking up inside another dream. It’s not very different from the type of fantasy that he’s let himself indulge in from time to time, but as his nose starts waking up as well, his heartbeat picks up so rapidly he’s going dizzy with it. Because never before has the fantasy included that strong scent of musky sweat, sex and sawdust—something that, while strangely arousing, is not something he ever would’ve thought of combining before. 

He slowly raises himself up, his cheek unsticking to the damp skin of Harry’s chest. As he takes in the sight of Harry sleeping, lashes long and dark against his cheeks, lips plump and bitten dark pink, his stomach plummets. Harry is beautiful, devastatingly so, and his large hand is resting protectively at the small of Louis’ back. 

Louis feels panic rise with every breath. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He is nowhere near ready to _deal_ with this. Because as pretty as Harry is, he’s also persistent and so annoyingly fucking earnest it’s all a little too much to handle. It wasn’t supposed to happen because Louis is trying to pick up the pieces of a broken home and he’s got no business throwing himself into some sort of a romance with a knight in shining armor. No matter how perfect his tanned chest is. Louis is supposed to get his shit together, supposed to take care of his daughter. Not to mention the absolute overwhelming thought that Harry is the only one he’s ever been with besides Cassie. The only _man_ he’s ever been with _at all_ , and he’s not ready to analyze or consider how he feels about that. 

He gets up as carefully as he possibly can from the unfastened swing, finding his shirt on the ground and hurriedly sneaking around the house and through the gate. A lump grows in his throat as he makes his way back home, cheeks burning with embarrassment as he trudges along the side of the road, hoping it’s early enough no one will catch sight of him. He has a feeling his one night of recklessness will have bigger repercussion than he must’ve thought last night. There’s something in the memory of the way Harry clung to him all night, the way Harry kissed him and looked at him, that makes him feel like this one won’t just slide under the radar. 

Sneaking inside his mother’s house he avoids all the creaky floorboards as he makes his way up the stairs. It’s not until he’s made it back to his bedroom that he catches sight of the clock and realises he’s supposed to be at work in a little over forty minutes. He groans quietly and heads towards the bathroom. Right as he’s about to close the bathroom door to take a shower hot enough to scald him, he’s met by the sight of his daughter. Miles is leaning against her door jamb, arms crossed over her chest, and with a look in her eyes that makes his cheeks burn with shame once again. Louis wouldn’t go as far as calling it disdain, but disappointment shoots out of her eyes like daggers. She knows he didn’t come home last night. She knows he’s done something he shouldn’t have. Louis honestly doesn’t know how to deal with this, so all he does is give her a sheepish smile before he closes the bathroom door. If he’s lucky she’ll have left the house to go play in the yard by the time he makes it out of the shower.

-

Work is a disaster. Louis is beyond distracted and even Lily with her understanding eyes and comforting smile tells him off for being a proper grump. Whiny customers and a few too many mishaps at the register leaves Louis on edge, sweat breaking out over his eyebrows and a small wave of nausea lingering in his belly. He can’t help the images from last night from flashing through his mind. Harry pressed up close, dimples deep and hands steady as they danced through the crowd. His serious eyes as he talks about his thoughts and dreams. Their tongues sliding together hot and wet. The smell of Harry both heavy and sweet. 

He knows he shouldn’t have. He feels so unbelievably guilty as he remembers the feeling of Harry’s skin under his hands. Doesn’t know what to do with the feeling of wrongness at touching someone  _ new _ like that. Doesn’t know what to do with how right it still felt. How much he liked Harry’s voice in his ear and his cock in his mouth. He’s been with the same person since he was fifteen years old, has never once touched someone in that way besides his wife, and no matter how he feels about said wife at the moment, it still feels foreign. Like a dream. 

When he gets off at six o’clock he’s so tired he barely remembers to change out of his work shirt; he’s out the door before he needs to backtrack to the locker where he keeps his belongings during the workday. The walk back home does little to clear his head and the closer he gets to the house, the slower his steps grow. The look Miles gave him this morning makes him want to crawl into a corner and hide. When he was young he always thought it must be nice to be an adult and just know what to do in every situation. Turns out he still has no idea and the biggest difference is that he now feels responsibility and shame whenever he screws up. 

He goes looking for Miles in the kitchen and then heads to the dining room, feeling like he should apologize to her but not exactly knowing how or for what. He doesn’t find his daughter but instead his mother who is busy lighting candles on the beautifully set dinner table. His chest immediately constricts with worry—this can’t be good.

“What’s all this?” he asks, his hand gesturing towards the table. 

“I met Harry downtown today and he looked like he could use some cheering up, so I invited him over,” she explains with an awfully cheery smile on her face.

“I don’t want to see Harry tonight,” he says, voice rising with panic as pinpricks of shame and unease travel up his neck. He can’t think of anything he’d rather  _ not  _ do than see Harry right now. 

“Harry is my friend, if he’s feeling down and I wanna cheer him up, then that’s my business,” Ramona says, her smile gone and replaced with a stern frown. 

“I’m serious Momma, this is not the time for your matchmaking fantasy okay?  _ Please _ listen to me,” Louis says and tries to convey how serious he is with the look in his eyes. 

“Oh stop it, I don’t know what you’re talking about, it’s just dinner!” Ramona waves him off as she heads towards the kitchen. “You don’t even have to say anything, just sit there.” 

Frustrated tears rise in his eyes and he does his best to blink them away, his mother yet again making him feel like a powerless child. “I’m going upstairs to sleep,” he says and turns around.

“ _ Louis Tomlinson!”  _ Ramona raises her voice at him and not surprisingly it has the same effect it did when he  _ was _ a child. He cowers under her sour gaze and stays put. “We are  _ not _ rude in this house, we’re having a guest so you better go welcome him.”

As if she has a sixth sense for people arriving on her doorstep, there’s a knock on the door and Louis hears Miles running down the stairs to answer it. 

Louis hears them talking, Harry’s deep drawl of “These are for you” and Miles’ rather suspicious sounding tone as she thanks him. Louis’ heart rabbits in his chest and he wonders if she’s on to them. If she knows the way Harry makes his palm sweat with just a flash of a smile. He shakes the thought out of his head and heads towards the door to do damage control. 

Miles is holding a bouquet of flowers, presumably from Harry, and she looks happy enough about it that Louis assumes she doesn’t know anything she shouldn’t. Okay. Good. Deep breaths. 

“Hi there,” Harry says, a warm smile on his face and Louis is suddenly hit with the fact that he himself looks like shit. A day’s worth of sweat and worries etched into his skin. Harry looks good though, wearing his usual get up of denim from head to toe, hair messily combed back on top of his head. 

“Hi,” Louis chokes out and tries to swallow against the dryness in his throat. 

“Grams, help me with a vase!” Miles shouts and heads towards the kitchen. Louis plants a kiss on the top of the head as she passes him and he watches her leave to avoid looking at the man on their doorstep. 

“So, I heard there was dinner…” Harry tries when Louis doesn’t invite him in. His dimple is out but there’s hesitation in his eyes, a question Louis doesn’t know how to answer. 

“Yeah, umm, it’s… in the dining room,” Louis points his thumb dumbly over his shoulder, as if Harry hasn’t spent more time than him in this house over the past decade. 

“After you,” Harry says, smirking slightly as he gestures for Louis to lead the way. 

They sit down on opposite sides of the round table and it’s only then that Louis notices the number of plates set out. 

“Hi Harry, lovely seeing you this evening,” Ramona comes rushing through from the kitchen, a big bowl of pasta in her hands. “Me and Miles already ate so you two eat as much as you like!” 

Louis just stares at her blankly, for once actually at a loss for words. He can’t grasp how she can do something like this, how she doesn’t understands just how far she’s crossing the line. How she’s able to pull stunt after stunt and not be aware of just how  _ not  _ welcome her administrations are. He’s just about to open his mouth to tell her so when he catches Harry’s eyes over the table, a careful but hopeful glint there that makes him snap his mouth shut. This is between him and his mother after all. 

As they are left alone, they go about putting food on their plates and Harry fills their glasses with wine. Louis is so tired, so sick of the guilt and nerves that have been raging inside of him all day. He just wants to start over, to get a clean slate. He figures clearing the air with Harry is a good way to start.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he says, trying to hold Harry’s gaze but only managing to do so for a moment before it flickers out the window. 

Harry puts his glass down on the table and wipes his mouth on a napkin. “I’m only sorry about this morning,” he counters. Louis can feel Harry’s eyes on him. 

Taking a deep breath, Louis grabs the bull by the horns and looks back, meeting that charming glint in Harry’s eyes. He needs to do this, needs Harry to know it was a mistake and that this, whatever  _ this _ is, cannot be happening. 

“Look… I know you have a crush on me—” he starts and is instantly interrupted by a chuckle of disbelief from Harry.

“Crush?” he asks and he sounds offended by the term. “Lou, this ain’t high school.”

“You know what I mean,” Louis mumbles, staring down at his untouched plate. 

A few moments of silence follows and he can clearly hear the sharp intake of breath from Harry. He can tell already from the start that he won’t enjoy the next few words out of Harry’s mouth. 

“You know what, Louis?” he starts, working up momentum. “You used to be so… you used to be so, I don’t know… audacious,  _ bold.  _ People would look at you come down the street and their eyes would light up, you could see it on their faces.  _ Look at me,” _ Harry says and the graveness in his tone makes Louis snap his eyes up, meeting Harry’s gaze across the candle lit table. “You think you’ve lost that, but I can still see it. I still see it Louis,  _ so much _ , and… Cassie never could, she never—” 

At the mention of Cassie something snaps inside him. “You don’t know anything about her,” he spits out, glaring back at Harry whose eyes shine with emotion, a mix of fire and fierce determination. Louis feels like he’s burning under their gaze.

“I know that she could let you go,  _ damn… _ ” Harry’s voice breaks and he takes a deep breath. “When are you going to realize you’re never gonna get that life back?”

It’s like a punch in the gut, the way Harry talks to him about things that are absolutely _none_ of his business, the way he thinks he’s got any right to do so, not matter what the truth might be. Louis is stunned silent for a few moments and he doesn’t have the time to recover before Miles is stomping up to the table, cheeks red and eyebrows drawn tight. 

“You get out of here! My Mom is coming back, she loves my Dad and if she knew the way you’re talking—” 

“Stop it, Miles,” Louis says, his brain scrambling to come up with what to do, suddenly feeling like the situation is spiraling out of his control. As if he even had any to begin with. 

“You tell him!” his daughter demands and Louis’ cheeks burn with humiliation because he  _ can’t.  _

“ _ Quiet _ ,” he says again, trying to give her a stern look. 

“Oh hush, both of you,” Ramona says, coming into the room and pulling Miles to her side. 

Louis doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. How could his mother think this would go well? 

“You better go,” he says and looks at Harry with both guilt and annoyance bubbling inside him. He wants to blame Harry for this whole mess, wants to show that obviously this would happen, meddling with things that are none of his business. 

There’s sadness in Harry’s eyes, his cheeks blotchy red and Louis thinks he looks embarrassed even though he can’t quite understand why. 

“Well… give me a call when you make up your mind. I hope I’m still around then,” he says, voice thick with emotion. Then he quickly gets up from the table and leaves, the bang from the screen door making Louis jump in his seat.

Miles runs after him and “He will _never_ love you. Dad loves _my_ _Mom!”_ is the last thing Louis hears before her voice gets muffled by the door closing behind her. 

Louis doesn’t even know what to do,  _ how _ he’s supposed to do anything but melt into a useless puddle of exhaustion. He downs the wine in his glass with a few big gulps, not even taking note of the taste of it on his tongue. 

Of course, he should’ve known it’s not over yet.

Ramona crosses her arms over her chest. “What kind of disaster are you?” she asks and he can tell that is only the opening line. “Harry is such a lovely man and you’re messing it up because you’re a  _ coward _ .”

He laughs bitterly at her; overcome with a sense of hopelessness, like no matter what he does he simply cannot do enough, be enough. “Yeah you’re right Momma, just a big ’ole coward, that’s me.”

“You think life goes on forever? You think you’ll always get a new chance? That after one there just comes another? Do you even realize what kind of extravagance that is? What you do with your chances?” There’s an ugly resentful twist to her words and Louis’ not even sure she’s talking about him anymore. Cannot fathom how she could look at his situation and think that Harry is going to come in and somehow  _ save him. _

“What are you even… I’m- I’m not even  _ divorced _ yet Momma! Can I not catch a fucking break? Just once!? I’m just trying to keep my head above the surface and you seem hell bent on dragging me right back down!” His voice breaks and wavers, tears stinging in his eyes. He’s just so tired. 

When Miles comes back into the dining room he desperately hopes she’ll show him some mercy, because he’s not sure he can take that much more.

“Why didn’t you tell him Mom loves us and that she’s coming back?” she asks, considerably more calm but with a sob clogging up her throat. 

Louis sighs deeply, resentment towards Cassie for putting them in this situation seeping into his bones. “Because I don’t know, I don’t know if she loves us and I don’t know if she’s coming back.” 

In all truth, he doesn’t know if she has truly cared for a long time. 

“She loves me even if she doesn’t love you!” Miles yells then and pushes at him, managing to startle him a bit because she doesn’t usually get physical like that.

“I sent Harry away, what more do you want?” he asks, feeling powerless and incredulous at what she’s expecting him to do. 

“I want to go home to my Mom, she wouldn’t have left if you had loved her enough!” 

The words unfurl like an ugly demon in the pit of Louis’ belly. His daughter is far more perceptive than he gives her credit for, but even then there are  _ some _ things she shouldn’t have to deal with, but he can’t stop himself before it slips out.

“No, your Mom didn’t love  _ me  _ enough,” he says, tears welling up in his eyes. There it is. Cassie gave up on them. Didn’t deem him a good enough father or a husband. Thought that what they’d built together since they were just  _ kids  _ was nothing compared to what she  _ could  _ have, while to Louis it was  _ everything.  _

“It’s all your fault and you know it!” Miles pushes on and that’s when he can’t take it anymore, can’t stand another moment in this house. With his jaw clenched shut he gets out of the dining room without another word. He grabs his jacket and then he’s out the door.

He walks with hurried steps and doesn’t know where he’s heading until he sees the neon sign across the street. Pulling his jacket tighter over his chest, he opens to door to the bar and tries to avoid meeting anyone’s gaze as he walks up to the counter. He still recognizes the bartender from when he was a kid and tried to sneak in with a fake ID (as if not everyone in this town knew his name as well as the name of his great grandparents’).

“Rough night?” the man huffs, already pouring him a drink and pushing it over the counter. 

Louis sags down in a bar chair and gives him a small appreciative smile. “Thanks,” is all he says before downing the drink.

Almost instantly the warmth floods his veins and heavenly fuzziness clouds his mind, so Louis just keeps going. 

After his second drink he starts chatting with the bartender, trying to distract himself from his own thoughts as well as the stares he can feel burning into his back. Of course he shouldn’t be drinking on his own at the local bar, of course people will be talking about him behind his back, but all he wants right now is a moment of relief. Of not feeling like he’s failed everyone that he cares about.

“So after that I just… stopped playing I guess, s’not like I could play professionally anyways, you know,” he explains to the bartender whose name he’s learned is something that starts with an M. Mike or Malcolm or Morgan perhaps. 

“You were really good though, I’ll never forget the goal you scored from the halfway-line right before the whistle blew. That was quite something,” the bartender chuckles and quite tragically Louis remembers it too. The feeling of euphoria when he settled the score and managed to get them enough points to play the next round. The slaps on the back from his teammates and the way Cassie had cheered him on from the stands. 

Another drink or three later the bartender gets busy with other guests for a moment and then it’s a whole lot more difficult to ignore the murmurs from the tables behind him. He snorts sardonically at himself, at the whole situation, at how he’s really just giving them exactly what they want. “I  _ am _ quite pathetic, aren’t I?” he slurs, loud enough to be picked up by the other guests sitting close to the bar. “Really quite the sight.” He snorts again and raises his glass to his lips only to realize it’s empty. 

“Hey, another one please!” he points towards his glass and tries to catch the bartender’s eyes, but it’s rather tricky with the way the world is tilting.

“How about some coffee?” is what he gets in return, Mike or Malcolm setting down a cup before him. 

He doesn’t want coffee, just wants another drink and then to go home and pass out and perhaps sleep for year or two. 

“It’s what I always said, didn’t I? Was always something a bit  _ off  _ about him.”

He hears it clearly this time and that was very obviously the intention. When he turns around he sees Bobbi Claire _Akin_ sitting at a table with whom he assumes to be her husband and a couple of friends. They’re all staring at him with wide eyes, eager to drink in and gloat at the misery that is Louis Tomlinson. The failure, the one turning back with the tail between his legs, the one there’s been whispers about since he was young and did you _see_ _him_ at the dance with Harry Styles?

Louis slides down from the bar stool, steadying himself on the counter. “Yeah, I bet you did,” he grunts. “The town closet case; his wife cheated on him with his best friend, he probably deserved it.” The words fall from his mouth and then it’s too late to stop them. 

“Oh, darlin’,” Bobbi Claire drawls out. “Trust me, we know  _ all _ about that.”

Louis chuckles then, because the thought in itself is absurd. People whispering and talking behind his back, thinking they’re in the know, thinking they can  _ judge him _ for things that are so far from their goddamned business. 

“You know what, don’t believe everything you hear…” he starts as he makes his way towards the exit, vindictive delight bubbling up in him as he recalls something he overheard at the store the other day. “Man, if I believed everything I hear down at the store, _I’d_ believe Bobbi Claire has got herself a bit of a boy toy on the side and there’s _no_ _way_ that’s true, is it?”

There’s some rumbling over at the table, scandalized gasps escaping from red-painted lips, but Louis shoves out the door before he can hear another word.

It takes him a while to find his way back to the house, his mind distracted and his legs not cooperating with him as they drag across the gravel. He starts feeling sick as he turns the corner down on their street and by the time he’s at the door he can feel it rumbling in his gut. With no time to head upstairs he rushes into the downstairs bathroom and just barely manages to open the toilet lid before emptying his stomach inside the porcelain bowl. He heaves until there’s nothing left and tears fall freely down his face, the front of his shirt uncomfortable soggy with sweat where it clings to his chest. 

The coolness of the toilet seat does little to relieve his misery but he cannot get himself to move. He doesn’t dare hope that it’s over yet as nausea rolls through him in thick waves. And that’s how his mother finds him. 

“Oh dear,” he hears her and then her cold hand his on his forehead, wiping his damp fringe to the side. 

“Please Momma, don’t say anything, don’t be clever,” he groans, lifting his head slightly and turning his face towards her. “Don’t be smart with me, ‘cause I really can’t take it tonight.” 

She doesn’t say anything, only leaves his side to come back a moment later, pushing a towel beneath his legs. “The floor is so cold, you shouldn’t sit on it.” 

Louis barely registers the lumpy fabric beneath him as he goes on. “Everything is just so  _ wrong _ ,” he whimpers. “I miss my life  _ so _ much.”

“Of course you do.”

“Everything used to be so _perfect_ and I just… I miss when we would go to the park and Miles would like… we’d swing her between us you know, and we’d be _so_ _happy_ … like a family… it made me feel so… all I ever wanted was a family, I miss it all so much…” 

He swallows against another wave of nausea and he doesn’t care that he’s rambling. Just needs to get this all off his chest before it crushes him to pieces. “I know it’s so easy to blame her, but I think it’s  _ me _ … I think… I used to see myself in her eyes and she  _ saw _ me Momma, she saw that I was strong and bold and…  _ audacious _ … but then things just started to change. The harder I tried to be what she wanted, the less I saw myself in her eyes and one day I looked in her eyes and I was just gone…” He looks up at his mother, needs her to understand. “Just  _ gone.” _

“I still see you,” Ramona says, her hand trailing down the side of his face, her voice gentle. 

“No, it’s still happening, it’s happening with Miles even, the way she looks at me…” He recalls all the times she’s looked at him with anger and disappointment over the past couple of months. How it’s made him feel like the universe is falling apart at the seams. “I’ve always been… being a dad, that’s always been the most important thing and now she just wants her mom and she hates me and it’s- it’s  _ killing _ me… I always promised myself I’d be a good dad and now she hates—” He breaks out into a deep sob, unable to continue as the feelings overwhelm him. The thought of having failed his daughter cut through him like a thousand daggers. 

“She doesn’t hate you, and she knows you love her more than anything, that’s the most important thing okay? She knows you’d do anything for her.” Ramona pulls him to her chest then, as if he was the child and not the father who’s failing at his parental duties. 

Louis takes a shaky breath, wondering if he’s going to be sick again.

-

He walks along the fields on the outskirts of town, desperate to find some solitude and to avoid people. Having woken up feeling like someone ran him over with a truck, Louis forced himself out of bed and out the door, knowing guilt and anxiety would only take over if he stayed in bed. He’s not sure how well he’s doing fending them off now either, but at least the fresh air has helped a bit with his thrumming headache. 

Images from last night come back in short flashes, but he doesn’t need the full picture to know he made a fool of himself. He hurt Harry, he upset Miles, yelled at his mother, got hammered and made a scene at the bar downtown. Quite possibly also confirming rumors about himself that he knows have floated around the town since he was young. 

It was always just one of those things. 

As a kid he was quite flamboyant, loving show tunes and putting on performances in front of the whole family on Friday night, and he’s always assumed that’s where the rumors started.  _ A strange boy, isn’t he? I heard he knows every word to  _ The Sound of Music _! _

In his preteen years Louis became determined to show everyone in town there was indeed nothing  _ strange  _ about him. That he was nothing short of the perfect son, the perfect soccer player, the one all boys wanted to be and the girls wanted to kiss. 

When he later realized that even though they had no way of  _ actually  _ knowing, they had somehow been able to  _ tell, _ he felt a deep sort of resentment towards them. It was as if they had predicted the way it would feel when Harry pressed up close against his side as they drank lemonade in the garden and how the butterflies would flutter in his belly when Han Solo smiled all crooked like. The fact that they were somehow  _ right _ bothered him way more than the fact that he found boys sort of endlessly fascinating. (Who  _ wouldn’t _ want to kiss overly confident, yet charming, low-level criminals from outer space after all?)

A couple of years later Cassie Stewart made her intentions clear though, and that somehow made everything else fade away. Cassie was the prettiest and brightest of four blonde sisters and Louis loved the way she laughed with her head thrown back. She was easy to talk to, easy to be around and since she seemed to draw everyone’s attention to her whenever there were other people around, Louis could relax. With her by his side people stopped whispering with malice and started smiling at him because they wanted to get on his good side. 

He knew by the time he was sixteen that he would marry her and from there on out everything had just sort of fallen into place. Moving to Chicago after graduation, the engagement, having Miles just fresh out of college and then onto the project of getting married and buying a house. When Miles had entered into his world, everything settled for him and he had known with full clarity that he would never love anyone as he loved her. 

With his hands shoved into the pockets of his tracksuit pants, Louis idly watches as some cows chew away at the dry grass a few feet away. He feels so lost and he doesn’t even know in which direction he should be moving. He thought getting a job would solve everything, would make him refocus and find some sort of purpose again, but as the world kept spinning around him that hasn’t happened at all. Miles is still upset with him for leaving Chicago, for leaving Cassie behind, even though he could hardly breathe the last few days he spent in the city. And everything with Harry just feels like a jumbled mess. Harry who seems to think Louis hung the fricking stars even though he’s just a sad man with crushed dreams. Harry who makes him laugh and whose kisses made Louis light-headed with want. He doesn’t know what to make of it, if he can even trust that Harry genuinely cares about him or if he’s just hung up on his high school crush. All he knows is he can’t trust himself around him, not with his feelings vibrating out of his chest and messing up his mind with every flash of a dimple or slow drawl of conversation. 

He sighs deeply and turns around to make his way back to the house, wondering if it will ever start feeling like home.

-

Dinner is probably the gloomiest one they’ve had since moving in and sadly that says quite a lot. Not even Ramona tries to make conversation in her usual forced manner, but seems determined to eat her beans in quiet.

Louis gets ready for bed, his movements slow as he ponders if he should go say goodnight to Miles or if she’ll just shove her door in his face. As he makes it down the hall to check on her he hears voices from inside Miles’ bedroom, his mother having already taken his spot beside Miles on the bed. 

“You’re so much like your Dad, you know,” Ramona says and Louis holds his breath, unmoving as he hovers right outside the door. “He always wanted to get tucked in as well.”

“I’m nothing like Dad, we’re so different I’m not even sure we’re related,” Miles protest and he hears the pout in her voice.

Ramona sighs deeply. “You know, family isn’t always easy to deal with. I get that,” she says and then there a few moments of silence before she continues and Louis can feel his pulse speed up in his throat. “Did I tell you about my brother Walter? Well, he was a right pain to deal with sometimes. Like what you’re going through with your Dad? That’s what I had to deal with, with Walter. One day we were playing, out back down by the river and we came across a large anthill. You ever seen one? Even growing up in the city?” Ramona asks and Miles hums as an answer. 

“Alright then, so Walter, being the way he was, he kicked it! And stomped on it—just scattered it to the four winds. And me, I just started crying, you know, I was just… I yelled for my Momma, I ran up and I grabbed her and I dragged her down there. So when we got over to the anthill my Momma pointed to the ants and said ‘Look at them, they just keep going’ and I looked over and she was right! Those little black specks just started scurrying every which way, just working hard to build their home back. And I said 'Why do they do it? I'd just give up. I mean, it's hopeless!' And my Momma said 'Yeah, you know, if there would be just one of them. But there's lots of ants down there. And they're all relatives. They're family, just like we are.' and that’s when I realized… that's what families are for. That's why they invented families: so hopelessness didn't get the last word! Even if it might seem like the end of the world; I figure if the ants can do it, so can we!”

And then, honest to god, Louis hears a small giggle escape from his daughter and he can’t help but tear up at the sound. 

“You know what,” Ramona goes on. “Your Dad is a lot stronger than he thinks he is, and that’s why he’s so much like you darling, two fighters, both of you.” 

“Love you grandma,” Miles says and Louis swallows against the tears again. 

“Oh honey, I love you so much,” Ramona says, her fondness bleeding through. 

“Good night Grams,” Miles says and Ramona give her a kiss good night.

It’s not until she’s closed Miles’ door behind her that Ramona catches Louis lurking and she puts her hand over her heart. “Oh  _ Jesus _ Louis, what are you doing out here?”

“Nothing, just… waiting,” he says and scratches the back of his neck. “Hey Momma, I know I give you a hard time, but just… thanks for that.” 

Ramona looks at him with peering eyes. “You’re most welcome, darling,” she says and gives him a pat on the arm.

“I mean it… I know we fight a lot and all, but I remember when it was different… when you used to tuck me in at night, when you stood by my side through everything. I just… I don’t want you thinking I forgot that.”

“My boy, I remember too, you were the brightest sunshine. You still are, you just need to find your way back to it.” 

“I’m trying Momma. I’m really trying.”

“I know… now let’s get you tucked in shall we?”

She gives him a small pinch in the cheek and he can’t help cracking up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed! ❤
> 
> You can also find me on [tumblr.](http://gaycousinlarry.tumblr.com/) I’d love to chat! 
> 
> And here's a tumblr post if you want to [reblog.](http://gaycousinlarry.tumblr.com/post/170338929653/something-in-the-way-written-by-momentofclarity) Thank you!


	6. Chapter 6

Fall eventually comes to Texas with the stifling heat breaking and the air becoming a little easier to breathe. The fresh air fills Louis’ lungs with something new, something that feels like a new start and maybe, finally, not going backwards. Work is going well—Lily constantly praises his ideas and has started getting this twinkly shine in her eyes as she mutters things like “store manager” and “a bright future.” Louis just smiles at her and hopes she’ll be around forever. 

Miles and him… they’re doing okay. After the whole Harry debacle, Louis has tried his best to give her all the attention and love that she deserves—to be the kind of father he always wanted to be. The afternoons when he previously used to curl up under a blanket and wish the world away, he now spends solving 1000-piece puzzles and going for walks with her along the river.

Louis hasn’t spoken to Harry since the night when all hell broke loose and he thinks it’s for the best. He catches himself sometimes, thinking about a joke Harry would like or missing the way Harry’s eyes felt on him, but staying away from him might be the only way he can build something stable, something that doesn’t feel chaotic and overwhelming. 

In a way it’s like he’s slowly learning how to become a real person again and not just an empty shell trying to cope. He might feel a bit like a newborn fawn stumbling around on ice, but at least he’s standing up. Most of the time. 

-

As the last heat of summer leaves Smithville, Miles and Louis start the habit of spending a few afternoons a week at the park. Sometimes Ramona joins them with a basket of sandwiches and hot chocolate, but most of the time it’s just the two of them. It’s wonderful to have Miles by his side again, their constant playful bickering and loud laughter mend the cracks and jagged edges inside Louis’ heart piece by piece. He hopes it does the same to her tiny, but oh so strong, heart as well.

“And that’s when Mona told her to stop being mean! And she listened to her, can you believe it?” Miles asks him as he pushes her higher and higher on the swing. 

The sun is shining and the temperature is perfect for a sweater but not cold enough to warrant a jacket. 

“So Dolores has stopped giving you a hard time then?” Louis asks, hope lightning in his chest at the thought. Miles’ first couple of months here were obviously not very easy for her, but now she’s met Mona with the biggest of capital M’s. Over the past two weeks it’s been Mona this and Mona that during breakfast, lunch, and dinner and the fact that his daughter has found a new friend couldn’t make Louis any happier.

“Not really, she just leaves me alone. Everyone  _ loooooves _ Mona, so she doesn’t want to mess with her,” Miles says proudly. Louis slows down the swing and eventually brings it to a stop as he walks around to face her. 

“That’s good then. You’ll have to invite Mona over round the house sometime,” he smiles and leans against the swing set frame. 

“I will! I’ll show her all the best spots for hide and seek and we’ll eat Grams’ cinnamon rolls,” Miles grins and Louis loves her more than anything. 

He’ll admit that sometimes he curses himself for raising such a strong-willed and fiery child, but he also knows that’s some of the things he loves the most about her. That and her wild imagination, her cheekiness, and her analytic brain simply makes her the most brilliant and genius kid to have ever existed on this earth and Louis refuses to admit he’s being biased. He’s sure Ramona would agree with him. 

Miles keeps talking about what she and Mona will do at future sleepovers and as he listens to her enthusiastic plans Louis lets his gaze wander over the park. There’s a few kids playing in the sandbox and a group of mothers keeping a watchful eye on them while they talk with each other. A few weeks back when he and Miles started going to the park, the group of faithful park-visiting mothers did their best engaging him in conversation, but they soon caught onto the fact that he was there to hang out with his kid and nothing else. 

Just as he’s about to return his gaze to Miles, he feels pinpricks of uncomfortable heat travel up his neck as his eyes get caught on a woman entering the park from the parking lot. She’s wearing a red, flowy dress and a jean jacket, long blonde hair in gentle waves down her shoulders. The air leaves Louis’ lungs like he’s been punched in the gut.

“MOM!” 

Miles jumps off the swing and is running towards Cassie before Louis’ brain has even fully registered what is happening. As Miles is throwing herself into the arms of her mother, Louis gets the distinct feeling that he’s dreaming, that what appears to be happening simply can not. 

Louis makes his way towards them with unsteady legs, his stomach in knots and head swimming. 

“Mom, I knew you’d come back, I knew it!” Miles squeals into her mother’s neck and Cassie holds her tight, a bright smile on her face. 

“Hi, baby doll,” Cassie says and laughs warmly at Miles’ enthusiasm. 

Once they pull apart, Miles turns around towards Louis. “Look Dad, she came back for us!”

Louis shuffles his feet on the ground and meets Cassie’s eyes, both familiar and foreign at the same time. “Hi Cass,” he greets her, shoving his hands into his pockets as he tries to make sense of what she’s doing in  _ their _ park on a Thursday afternoon. 

“Hi,” Cassie smiles at him and pulls Miles towards her with an arm across her chest. 

It seems that just as the nightmares had begun to fade from his nighttime routine, they have managed to go through a metamorphosis that’s made them strong enough to survive in the light of day.

-

The rest of the evening is a rather chaotic affair, with Ramona throwing disapproving glares at Cassie and Miles running around and fawning over her mother, while Louis tries his best not to lock himself inside the bathroom and put his hands over his ears. Cassie keeps looking at him with her big doe eyes, raising her eyebrows and tilting her head in the way that means  _ we need to talk.  _ Louis just looks back at her with his own brand of  _ I have no idea what you’re talking about  _ before returning his attention to his plate of mashed potatoes and gravy. 

It isn’t until after Miles is tucked into bed (with Cassie by her side and Louis hovering awkwardly by the door), that Cassie gets her chance to talk to him. Once the initial shock of seeing Cassie again ebbed out, Louis quickly picked up on why she’s back in Smithville. A few days ago he heard of Cassie’s grandfather passing and he had made sure to sit down with Miles and talk to her about it even though she didn’t know her great-granddad. Ever since then he’s had it in the back of his mind that Cassie will most probably show up to the funeral. What he  _ doesn’t _ understand is why she’s spending the evening  _ here _ rather than together with her mourning family. 

When she asks him to join her for the ceremony, Louis flinches with surprise.

“Please, you know how much it would mean to my Momma,” she says, back at it again with those doe eyes. 

“Why didn’t you just bring Ben with you? I’m sure he’d love a proper family introduction,” he huffs out even though he knows it’s to no avail. 

“ _ Louis,  _ at times like these we need to show unity, you know, for Miley,” Cassie says, putting a careful hand on his arm. 

His first instinct is to laugh in her face, because he has no idea what Miles has to do with this. She probably only met her great granddad once in her life, but he finds that the energy to protest runs out of him and he agrees to join her with a deep sigh. 

-

The funeral is held on Saturday afternoon and it seems like half the town has turned up for the event. Of course Cassie’s grandfather lived in this town his whole life and employed a large chunk of its residents for many years. With the biggest farm in town he managed to become one the wealthiest men in the region, something that had always  _ meant  _ something to the people of Smithville. Had always shone a light over the family members and made them  _ special _ , made them someone you want to be familiar with. 

Louis is dressed in one of his old working suits, not used to the restrictive feeling of creased pants and fully-buttoned shirts after months of jeans, undershirts, and rolled-up shirt sleeves. He’s sweating before he’s even out the front door and he wonders idly why on earth the heat decided to make a comeback on the one day he’s wearing a black jacket. He tries not to complain about it as he tucks Miles inside the car, a knee length dress hanging off her shoulders rather than her usual get up of corduroy pants and Mickey Mouse sweatshirts. 

The thing is… he barely knew Cassie’s granddad. Always felt uncomfortable around their big dining table with the fine china that was brought out whenever he joined them for Sunday dinner. So Louis doesn’t necessarily feel like he’s in mourning, even though funerals are never a happy matter. They pick Cassie up from her parents’ house where she’s spent the morning and the three of them head towards the church. 

It feels quite bizarre entering the church together with Cassie, Miles between them, holding each of their hands. Louis really doesn’t understand the purpose of him being here since  _ everyone knows _ about him and Cassie splitting up, but he assumes that sometimes people would rather play pretend than face inconvenient and scandalous truths. 

Just as he’s about to follow Miles into one of the church pews, Harry comes walking up to them, successfully sending Louis’ heart into a rather uncomfortable flutter. It’s just, he hasn’t seen Harry in weeks, and while that  _ is  _ a good thing, Harry looks awfully handsome in a suit. He’s wearing a soft somber sort of smile, his eyes showing nothing but sympathy. 

“Hi Lou,” he says, voice deep and raspy. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Louis feels Miles tugging on his hand but he’s stuck to the floor, unable to look away from Harry. 

“Same to you. I know you used to work for him back in the day,” Louis says as he recalls the fact that Harry probably knew the man better than Louis ever did. 

Harry nods and gives him one of those careful smiles again. “Yeah, for a few years. Is everything… are you alright?” he asks and Louis’ stomach swoops almost painfully. There is no trace of residual anger or bitterness in Harry’s tone. Despite how they parted ways last time and despite the fact that Louis came here with Cassie. Not for the first time Louis wonders how someone like Harry exists in this world, someone so good and heartfelt. 

“I’m okay, thank you. We’re okay,” he says, stumbling a bit over the words, nervous as he feels Miles’ and Cassie’s eyes on him. 

Harry leans to the side to peak over at Miles as well. “Hey Miles, are you alright?” 

Louis throws a glance over his shoulder just in time to see her demonstratively turn her back to them and hug her mother without answering the question. 

“Well then, umm I’ll… I’ll see you around,” Harry says and gives him a small wave. He turns around and Louis watches the way his suit jacket strains slightly over the broad expanse of his back, as he heads towards a seat a few rows back. 

Louis knows he should feel ashamed, but after talking to Harry for the first time in over a month, he finds it very difficult to focus during the service. On the other hand he’s got a feeling Cassie’s grandfather wouldn’t have expected any better of him.

-

The reception is held at the big farm. People mill about in the afternoon sun and eat from the massive buffet that’s set up in the dining room. Miles stays with Louis throughout the whole thing, for the moment letting her mother out of her sight, and tugs on the hem of his jacket at regular intervals because she wants them to leave. Louis gives her sympathetic smiles because he feels very uncomfortable taking part in this family event when the reality is what it is. 

Eventually it is Cassie who comes to save them, a determined look on her face as she tells Louis that they  _ need to talk  _ and Louis doesn’t feel like he’s got much of a choice. They head back to his mother’s house and pile into the kitchen once they’ve arrived. Ramona makes them tea and brings out some cookies but then leaves them be, for once not putting her nose in Louis’ business. 

“Why don’t you go outside for a while, Miley?” Cassie asks their daughter once Miles has chewed down two cookies and a glass of lemonade. “The weather is really lovely today, and your Dad and I can get a chance to talk, alright?”

Louis feels a bit sick with how manipulative her words are, wonders if she always twisted and turned words to make them seem like something they’re not. Cassie must know that Miles wants nothing more than for her parents to work things out, and as Miles grins and heads towards the door after a bright “Sure thing!” he knows that’s exactly what Miles thinks is happening. 

As soon as the door shuts close, heavy silence falls between them and Louis feels his skin crawl with unease. 

He takes a deep breath to steel himself. “So, what do you want to talk about? How happy you are with Ben?” He doesn’t even mean for it to come out, but there it is, delivered with a side of all the anger and hurt he’s felt over the past few months.

“Louis, you’re not going to make me feel guilty about this. The only thing I’m guilty of is falling in love. I didn’t mean for it to happen, it just did,” Cassie says and Louis lets out a loud snort of disbelief even though he recalls the same sentiment she told him before him and Miles left the city. 

“Oh I’m sorry, must’ve been awful to just have it happen to you like that, like you had no word in it,” he says and stares at her, not being able to comprehend how that’s the angle she’s going for with this. Not apologizing or crawling to the cross, but defiance and self-assuredness. After all the months he’s spent trying to pick up the pieces of everything  _ she  _ chose to break, she hasn’t even started to begin to take responsibility for the way things happened.

“Please don’t do this. I don’t want to fight,” she says and she looks at him like he’s out of control, like he’s acting unreasonable.

“Nope, you never did, did you? Everything was always so easy for you. You never got upset or worked up, everything was just another thing to check off from your list. Almost as easy as getting rid of your husband and child! Husband gone: check, daughter gone: check.”

“Louis,  _ you _ left remember?  _ You  _ chose to leave Chicago and bring her all the way down here!”

“No,” Louis says, voice trembling as he shakes his head. “ _ No _ , you left me long before I left you.” 

“You know what? What does it even matter? We’re not in love with each other anymore!” 

Cassie’s voice echoes through the kitchen and Louis feels his cheeks heat up with anger, with frustration, with how fucking  _ unfair  _ it all is. Yeah, what does it even matter, it’s just that  _ she _ chose to take his whole life away and he had no say it in. 

Miles comes crashing through the door leading in from the porch, making it very obvious she’s been eavesdropping. “Stop fighting!” she yells at the top of her lungs, standing right in between them in the kitchen, hands on her hips.

“Please, go outside, this is between me and your Momma,” Louis says, doing his best to not let his emotions affect how he’s talking to his daughter. 

“I’m not leaving before you stop fighting!” She glares at him and he’s lucky he’s nearly grown immune against that particular stare. 

“Miles, get out of the house now, _please,”_ he begs her and he hates how Cassie is letting him deal with Miles on his own.

“Don’t you ruin anything!” Miles yells at him before she’s stomping out of the room. Once again the door slamming closed leaves smothering silence behind. 

Louis doesn’t even know where to start. He’s carried around so many conflicting emotions since he last saw Cassie that it’s difficult to prioritize, to know what’s important and what is not. Maybe he should just start with the simplest thing. 

“If you stopped loving me, you should’ve left me a long time ago instead of going behind my back.” He doesn’t know if he sounds mostly angry or sad, but it’s probably a mix of both.

“Oh  _ please _ . I’m sorry, but you’re not exactly the easiest man to talk to,” Cassie says, voice dripping with mockery.

His throat clogs up and his chest restricts painfully. “You know, I would’ve- I would’ve stayed with you forever. I would’ve turned myself  _ inside out _ for our family, to keep us together,” he chokes out, the pure  _ hurt  _ seeping through him making him tremble. 

“I know that,” Cassie says and now she actually sounds dejected. “But Louis, I wouldn’t have let you. People grow, they change—they have to.” 

Isn’t that what everyone has told him since he came back here? People change, you’ve got to move on, you’re not what you once were.  _ Like he doesn’t know. _

“You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t know about how you change to make things work, how maybe I’m not all I once was. I  _ know _ .” He stares her down, wanting her to feel every word that he’s got to say, wanting her to face the consequences of her actions. “But you know what, you’re not either. You got sadder and- and  _ pettier _ , if you want to know the truth. The thing is, I haven’t changed that much that I would lie to somebody I love. I would walk through  _ fire _ before I let them feel like they were nothing, and I would never,  _ ever _ , break up anybody’s home. Because I’m not a quitter. My family is  _ everything  _ to me.” 

His eyes burn with tears that want to fall and it feels like he’s just ripped open his chest and is bleeding all over his mother’s kitchen floor. 

Cassie looks at him with those annoyingly big doe eyes, nothing like shame or grief there but something a lot closer to pity. “I’m in love with Ben, this is my chance for a new start and I’m taking it. I’m sorry.” 

“Then you should take it,” Louis bites back, feeling like he’s quickly losing control of the way his emotions shoot through his body, making it harder to breathe, making his ears whistle and his cheeks burn. There’s a taste of blood in his mouth and he feels nauseous. The last walls of their foundation are crumbling to the ground and he can’t do anything to stop it—isn’t sure he even wants to. “If that’s your chance, then you should take it. You’re right, you and Ben  _ do _ deserve each other. You were  _ lucky _ to have me, but you know what? I already got the best part of you, and she’s standing right out there,” he points a shaking finger at the porch door. “And to be honest, what’s left over doesn’t look so good anymore.” 

For once it seems like he’s managed to shut her up, to leave her speechless, at least for long enough for him to catch his breath. To feel like maybe she understands now, just how badly she screwed up. That’s when she looks up at him and her eyes have gone steely, the rest of her emotions effectively wiped off her face.

“Wasn’t that what you always wanted from me, though? A family, a  _ kid _ ? Did you  _ ever _ really want  _ me, _ Louis?” 

It takes him a second to understand what she’s getting at and if he thought he had reached his limit for how much he can’t stand to look at her—well, he was wrong.

“Don’t you fucking go there, don’t you  _ dare…”  _ he says, voice low and challenging, every bone in his body quaking. 

“What? Is it so strange for me to believe? You don’t think I’ve heard the way you go ’round with Harry Styles?” 

His name sounds all wrong coming from her lips, filled with resentment and  _ disgust. _ As if anything Harry has ever done could warrant such feelings. One thing is very clear to Louis though—the last thing he wants is to discuss Harry with the woman in front of him. 

“I don’t ‘ _ go  _ ’ _ round _ ’ with anyone, not that it’s any of your business. But what do you want then? Why are you here? Why did you ask me to go to the funeral with you? You want my  _ blessing _ ? Or what is it you’re so  _ desperate _ to talk about?”

Cassie puts her hands up on the table and clasps her hands together, like she’s in a goddamned business meeting and is about to make an important offer. 

“I didn’t wanna do this like this in the middle of a fight… but I want a divorce.” 

And of course he should’ve known it was coming, should’ve known she’s not going to want to stay tethered to him and Miles now that she’s got her new life going, but the words still fill him with ice cold dread. All that fiery anger runs out of him and he’s left staring at her, at a loss for words.  _ Divorce _ . That thing that only happens to other people, that thing that happens to people who aren’t willing to fight, who aren’t making an effort to stay together, to cherish the home they built. 

Miles bursts through the door again, but this time she’s running past them and up the stairs. “I’m coming with you, Mommy!”

Louis doesn’t know what to do with that piece of information either. He’s tried so hard to show Miles how much he loves her, how much being her dad is the only thing that really matters to him, but maybe he didn’t do enough. Maybe he just isn’t enough.

Cassie gets up from the kitchen table and hovers by the door for a moment. “I’ve left the papers in an envelope on the living room table, please sign them and send them to me as soon as you can.” 

With those words she leaves the kitchen and heads out into the hallway and out the front door. Numb with feeling he follows her out, watches as she makes her way down the stony path and towards her car. He never got to watch her leave last time—it was always him running out the door. 

As he leans against the porch banister, Miles shoves past him, an elbow knocking into his thigh in her eagerness to catch up. Her fully packed backpack is dragging behind her on the ground. 

“Miles, come back here!” he tries but he knows it’s futile, that he’d have to drag her kicking and screaming.

“I’m going with my Mommy!” Miles yells behind her and Louis can’t help but sinking down on the steps. His heart is breaking with the fact that she doesn’t seem to waste a second on thinking about who she’d be leaving behind, but that’s nothing compared to how devastated he is at the way he  _ knows  _ Miles’ heart is breaking too.

“Sweetheart, what do you think you’re doing?” Cassie asks as Miles catches up with her, giving her daughter a caress over her cheek before she keeps moving towards the car. 

“I’m going with you!” Miles says and follows.

“Honey, that’s not possible. You’ve got to stay here with your Dad,” Cassie explains like Miles is just being stupid, like she simply doesn’t understand. Cassie turns towards the porch and looks pleadingly up at Louis. “Louis, help me out here?”

Louis doesn’t say anything, doesn’t have it in him to help her lie to their daughter’s face.

“Listen honey, I have got to go. Go back to your Dad, don’t do this to yourself, don’t make a scene. Go back inside now,” Cassie says and gives Miles another caress down her cheek. 

Cassie looks so lost and Louis can tell she’s struggling with how to deal with this, what to say. As if she hadn’t even spared a thought to what might happen if she showed up on their doorstep after not having seen her kid for several months. 

Miles brushes past her and heads towards the car. She yanks at the door handle and when she notices it’s locked she simply shoves her backpack into the open window. “I’m coming with you,” she says and looks up at her mother who reaches inside the car to pull the bag out again. 

Cassie crouches down in front of Miles and holds her still with her hands on her arms. 

“Miley, you know I’d take you with me if I could, but Ben and I need some time to ourselves… to try and make a go of it, then I’ll come back for you, I  _ promise _ . Now go back to your Dad, okay?”

“You want me! You wrote it in the letter! You want me!” Miles is screaming at the top of her lungs now, like she knows this is it, her last chance to get what her heart desires.

“I will always want you Miley, my little princess, but your Dad needs you, and you need him. I love you princess, but I have got to go.” 

With those words Cassie gets up and quickly makes her way around the car to the driver’s seat. That sets Louis into motion. He jogs down the path and captures Miles in his arms just as she’s about to launch herself towards the car Cassie has put in reverse. 

“I want my Mommy!” Miles cries out and he can feel her heart shattering with every twist and kick of her body against his chest. 

He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, watching as Cassie drives away and leaves chaos behind, but he knows it feels like half of an eternity. Eventually the fight runs out of Miles’ body and she sags against him, nearly toppling them over on the ground, but Louis picks her up then and carries her up to the house. 

To their home.

-

Louis heads straight towards Miles’ bedroom as he carries her inside. Staying up and doing anything at all seems like an impossible concept. He lays her down over the covers and shuffles up beside her, leaning against the headboard as he pulls her against his chest. 

“It’s okay, honey. You’re okay,” he tries to soothe her, running his hand up her back and grabbing one of her hands in his. 

Miles doesn’t say anything, just silently cries into the fabric of his shirt. What just happened feels so monumental, so final, and he realises that up until today both him and Miles have been stuck in the past. Too many questions unanswered, still too many open wounds to make it possible for them to heal. 

The thoughts swim through his head, flashes of the past mixing with the image of Cassie looking at him with those steely eyes. It’s so difficult for him to reconcile the woman he shared a life with, with the person she seems to have become. But maybe it isn’t that she’s changed, but that he’s been unable to see behind his own idealized idea of their life together. For him, everything became so clear once Miles was in the picture, but it seems that to Cassie everything just became muddier. For a moment he lets himself consider what it might’ve been like to live with him, if he ever gave her what she wanted or only what he thought she did. He wonders how it’s possible to be so fundamentally wrong about your own life.

“Why did you pretend that letter was from Mommy?” Miles asks then, drawing him out of his thoughts. Of course she’d figure it out and if he’s honest he doesn’t know what he was thinking. He can’t really justify his actions even though they seemed to make sense nearly three months ago.

“What a lively imagination you have,” he says and hugs her tight. He has a feeling they both know he’s deflecting. He takes a deep breath, needing her to understand just how important she is, that no matter what her mother might think: she’s not someone you can leave behind. 

“You know… I always thought I was going to be… special, that something about me set me apart from everyone else in this town. But you know what, I’m not. I’m just a normal person. But that’s okay, because  _ you  _ make me special, alright? You are everything in this world to me and we’re going to make it through this, because we’re a team. Louis and Miles, the coolest duo in Smithville. So don’t you  _ ever _ think about leaving me again, because I need you and I love you so much sweetheart.”

Miles wraps her arms around his torso and pushes her face into his chest, her glasses digging into his ribcage. “I love you too Dad.”

And that’s all Louis ever needed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed! ❤
> 
> You can also find me on [tumblr.](http://gaycousinlarry.tumblr.com/) I’d love to chat! 
> 
> And here's a tumblr post if you want to [reblog.](http://gaycousinlarry.tumblr.com/post/170338929653/something-in-the-way-written-by-momentofclarity) Thank you!


	7. Chapter 7

Louis signs the papers the morning after Cassie leaves. Even though he has done his best to ignore the inevitable outcome of Cassie’s affair and then him and Miles moving, Louis has spent some time picturing the moment he signed the papers. He always thought it would be with a hesitant pen and a heavy heart, but as he scribbles his messy signature he’s mostly angry. Not the kind of angry that he was before, where he couldn’t possibly understand how she could do this to their family, but angry in a way that makes it feel like a relief to get rid of her. Realistically he’s known he won’t be able to move on until they’re officially divorced and after the stunt she pulled with Miles he wants to get on with their lives as quickly as possible. 

Settling down out on the porch with a cup of coffee, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, Louis thinks about Cassie’s decision. He tries to picture a universe in which he would choose a lover over his daughter and he simply cannot. That’s just not part of who he is.

He knows he’s not perfect; he’s done a lot of things he’s not proud of, both in the past and more recently, but he thinks he really needs to give himself a chance to move forward. To find new ways to be Louis Tomlinson, even in this town where everyone already seems to have an opinion about who he is. 

When Miles comes to join him a little while later, cuddling in close under the blanket, he thinks that with her help it might not be an impossible task. She always knew how to keep him on track, always helped him prioritize and pick out the most important parts of the puzzle of who he is.

-

As the first days of December drag on, Louis’ life as a divorced man falls into routine and he doesn’t know why he’s surprised when it doesn’t make that much of a difference. Waking up each morning to get Miles ready for school, spending the day at the store and then making sure Miles and Mona don’t wreck havoc inside the house during the afternoons. 

He spends a lot of time in the evenings thinking and it feels like he’s never thought about his own life this hard ever before. It’s like he’s just been moving forward without weighing the pros and cons, without a thought of consequence, just blind faith that the path he chose so many years ago was the right one. As that mindset clearly didn’t work out for him in the end, he figures he’s got some thinking to catch up on. 

He thinks about how his own idea of who he is, the one he also carried with him all the way up to Chicago, both pushed him forward him and held him back. How he somewhere along the way stopped being interested in movies and reading comic books, simply because it wasn’t vital when it came to what would make him a successful realtor, a supportive husband, and a caring father. Those little things that used to be just for him somehow got lost along the way. He thinks about what his interests could be now. He wants to find something that is just for him. Maybe he should pick up some show tune tapes for his and Miles’ shared Walkman and see if he still likes them.

One afternoon when Miles and Mona are in a particularly rowdy mood they have him laughing so hard he needs to clutch his stomach and wipe at the tears pouring out of his eyes and he realizes he hasn’t laughed quite like that in a very long time.

He starts helping Ramona with dinner a few times a week, even though she’s highly skeptical at first. When he reassures her that he’s on her turf, she lets him help out with making the salad for dinner. It makes him think about how he liked to cook dinner back at the house in Chicago, how he always enjoyed how much it made them feel like a proper family. How, even as she happily ate the food he put on the table, Cassie sometimes dropped comments about how it wasn’t  _ right _ . How she used to chuckle nervously as she explained to their guests that sometimes  _ Louis _ was the  _ wife _ in their marriage. He thinks about how many comments like that she made over the years. Insinuations and tiny little daggers in his side. “Oh, you think he’s good looking do ya?” she’d ask if he casually mentioned a new male coworker, or she’d give him a disapproving look if he wore something she didn’t agree with. Something that was wrong in some mysterious but yet to her very distinct way. How many times he wondered if him being honest with her about the fact that he’s attracted to men was a mistake rather than a relief. 

When the school principal of Smithville High stays to chat with him one day at the store, the words slip out of his mouth before he’s even had the chance to stop them. “If you ever need someone to assist with soccer practice, I’d love to help out.” The smile she gives him makes it feel like he just made her day as well as his own. 

He can’t deny that he thinks about Harry. It’s like he just slips in sometimes. Like all of a sudden while Louis is thinking about if he should pick up gardening or if the color of the news anchor’s shirt is more blue or green, Harry is all of a sudden there, cheeky grin and all. Louis almost grows used to it. Like the Harry of his subconscious keeps him company throughout the day. The only time he  _ really _ minds is when he can’t help but thinking of Harry’s strong, wide hands as he’s curled up under his comforter at night, hearing nothing but the rushing in his ears as the blood in his arteries floods south. When they stumble into each other at the town market one day, Louis turns deep scarlet with just a flash of dimples and Harry’s hand gently squeezing at his bicep.

So. It’s all routine really, until one day when the sun starts shining even after it’s set and all the birds sing as if they were in a Disney movie. 

Louis is loading the washing machine, Miles brushing her teeth as she keeps him company, kicking her feet against the counter she’s perched upon. She’s just told him about her art class with white foam running all the way down to the collar of her pajamas, when she nearly gives him a heart attack.

“Why hasn’t Harry Styles been around lately?” she asks and Louis stops dead in his tracks. He turns around slowly and tries to read her expression, but she looks like she asked him about the weather. He can’t tell if she’s truly that casual about it or if she’s just pretending. 

“Erh, um, I don’t know…” he says carefully, keeping his hands busy by folding a dirty towel. 

“He used to be here all the time and now he’s not,” she says again and after another careful glance at her, Louis asks her if she would mind. 

“Like, if he were around sometimes? For dinner or something?” He hopes he doesn’t look too much like an eagerly hopeful puppy. 

Miles shrugs her shoulders and hops down from the counter. “Nah, he’s not that bad.” And then she’s out the door.

Louis stays frozen in place until the dryer beeps behind him and he jumps in surprise. He isn’t sure what just happened, but Miles—unprompted at that—bringing Harry up, feels a bit like a sign.

-

After Miles’ comment it seems like Louis’ thoughts of Harry go from reoccurring to nearly constant. He knows that it hasn’t been that long, that he should maybe just let things be, but the truth is that he misses him. Somewhere along the way he stopped being annoyed at Harry being around and started feeling at home in his company. Like he could really be himself and Harry still looked at him like he was wonder. 

Louis pictures him over at their table for dinner after a long day’s work and wonders what it would be like to wake up next to him on a lazy Sunday. Sometimes in the early mornings while having his morning coffee out on the porch, Louis thinks about how easy it would be to fall in love with every dimpled smile and that slow Texas drawl. 

He considers the doubts he’s had about Harry’s feelings. If Harry is truly just hung up on his high school crush or if he’s genuine about what he feels. Is he really more to Harry than a pretty face and someone unobtainable to pine after? After all he wasn’t all that nice to Harry way back then…

He thinks that maybe Harry deserves a chance to give his side of the story before Louis judges him for it. 

Because ever since the funeral Louis has thought about what this all might feel like to Harry. The way things ended with them before they had even started and how Louis then showed up to the funeral together with Cassie. How Harry was still the bigger person and offered his condolences with a soft smile. Louis knows he hasn’t been fair to Harry, that he should never have spent the night with him before he was ready, shouldn’t have let himself enjoy Harry’s company so much that it made him lose focus. 

When Harry showed up on Ramona’s doorstep that first week after Louis came back, all Louis saw was the boy with rosy cherub cheeks who followed him around when they were kids. Yes, he noted the fact that Harry had grown into a very handsome man, but it took him a while to see all the other ways he’d changed. How much more confident he was. How he knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to be honest about it. How he was gentle and kind and so heartbreakingly earnest in a way that only someone very brave would have the guts to be. 

With the way Louis can’t stop thinking about Harry’s soft encouragement and teasing smiles, he thinks that maybe they both deserve the chance to find each other again. 

For real this time. 

-

One night Ramona is out with her friends so it’s just Miles and Louis at home. They eat homemade pizza and watch cartoons on a home recorded VHS. Miles is spread out over the couch, her head in Louis’ lap as he lazily braids her long strands. He’s not sure if bringing it up with her is the right choice or not, but he also thinks it’s vital that Miles feels comfortable with whatever decision he makes.

“Hey, you remember what you said about Harry being around?” 

She tenses up for a moment before she turns to look up at him. “What about it?” 

“It's just… I’ve been thinking about asking him out. Like on a date.” His heart races in his chest at the words, like just saying them brings him one step closer to it actually happening. 

Miles purses her lips and curls in on herself a little bit, contemplating his words. “Why?”

“I think I really like him,” Louis says as if that explains all the things he feels concerning Harry Styles. “But I wanted to check how you’d feel about it?” 

His cheeks heat up at his own awkwardness. He’s obviously never talked to Miles about things like this before and he feels strangely vulnerable while doing so.

“I told you he’s alright,” she says and Louis can’t help but to let out a small sigh of relief. 

“Yeah? What made you change your mind about him?” he asks and leaves out the _since_ _you basically told him to go to hell last time he was over._

She’s quiet for a while before shrugging. “I saw the way he made you smile when we met him over at Old Creek the other night. You didn’t stop smiling all the way home so I figure he’s not too bad.” 

Louis can’t help flushing again, remembering their short encounter with Harry during one of their evening walks. Harry had been all sorts of breathtaking, in a knitted jumper and dark jeans, for once without his hat perched on his head so his hair fell down over his forehead. He’d joked about Miles and Louis being out late at night even though it was barely seven thirty and Louis had rolled his eyes at him. Apparently he’d also smiled like a smitten fool if Miles’ testimony is anything to go by. 

“Oh, that’s embarrassing,” he says self deprecatingly.

“Oh yeah, you totally are,” she says and grins up at him. 

Louis tickles her sides until she falls off the sofa in laughter. 

\- 

It turns out that just because you make a decision to ask someone out, it’s not an easy thing to do. At least not if you’re Louis Tomlinson (no longer Stewart). The times Louis sees Harry downtown over the next few days he ducks behind corners and avoids meeting his gaze across the town square, his heart racing in his chest. 

First of all there’s the fact that Harry might not even be interested anymore. His  _ give me a call when you make up your mind, I hope I’m still around then  _ running through Louis’ head in an endless loop. What if he  _ is _ too late? That by being with Harry before he was ready, he ruined his chances for good? Harry is always lovely as ever whenever their paths cross downtown, but that’s the way he is with everybody, isn’t it? 

Then there’s also the horrifying fact that Louis apparently turned into a teenager when he made up his mind—flushing, fumbling and daydreaming like never before. He’s honestly scared he won’t even be able to talk to Harry without stumbling over his words and that makes him even more nervous. 

But then he remembers the way Harry looked at him that night at the dance, the way he touched him and whispered words of praise into his skin. He thinks about how Harry has loved him devotedly from the sidelines, has had to see him fall in love and move away with someone else. Marry someone else. How maybe it’s Harry’s turn to be wooed and fawned over. Because Louis  _ does _ find him all sorts of amazing. The way he’s learned to build a beautiful house by doing rather than sitting in a school bench, the way his cheeky charm made Louis smile even when he was at rock bottom and how gentle his caring heart is. Maybe it is only right that Louis gets over himself and his nerves, simply because Harry is worth the risk.

So then it’s only a question of where and when.

After another few days have passed and Christmas is suddenly approaching right around the corner, Louis decides he needs to make a move. Who knows if Harry will even be in town for the holidays? The thought of not talking to Harry before the new year begins makes a new sort of determination settle in his bones. 

-

It’s a beautifully sunny Friday afternoon when Louis gets off from work, a bouquet of flowers from the store clutched in his hand. He makes his way over to the bike he borrowed from his mother this morning. Louis usually walks to work, but with where he’s heading now he thought a bike might be the better option.

He sets the flowers down carefully in the front basket and gets up on the saddle, slowly pedaling forward as his palms sweat against the handlebar. The day before he had sneakily asked Tina Truman if Harry was still helping them out with their new horse paddock and she’d gone on about how they’d probably need another week to finish it. So that’s where he’s headed now, heart beating against his ribcage and belly fluttering with nerves and excitement. 

The more obvious option might be to just wait until Harry got home from work, but with the way his fingers tremble, Louis doesn’t trust himself enough to go through with it if he waits. He makes a turn after he’s passed the school and heads out on the fields that surround the Truman farm. The wind is blowing around his ears and he wonders if he should’ve gone home to change into something nicer than his sweater and jeans. It’s too late now anyways. 

He sees Harry’s truck on the driveway and the sight washes him with both relief and another bout of nerves. Since he doesn’t know where the horse paddock is and he doesn’t feel like walking around like a lost fool to find it, he parks his bike and heads over to Harry’s car, thinking he’ll just wait for him there.

When he checks his reflection in the side rearview mirror of Harry’s car, his cheeks are flushed and his hair is a mess from the bike ride, but he looks nothing like the exhausted ghost he embodied just a while back so he deems himself good enough. With the flowers clutched to his chest, he leans against the truck to wait. 

It’s not until his heart has settled down somewhat and the rushing in his ears has stopped that he starts feeling  _ painfully  _ awkward. What is he even doing? Why couldn’t he just pick up the phone like a normal person? Why didn’t he just ask Harry casually when they stumbled upon each other downtown? He doesn’t even know how Harry will react to this public display of affection. Will he be embarrassed that Louis showed up at his  _ job?  _

With these thoughts whirring in his mind and the little confidence he had quickly deteriorating, Louis loses track of how long he’s been waiting. Eventually he starts plucking at the flowers, examining every leaf to see they’re up to standard, maybe he should’ve just bought chocolate or something. Just as he’s about to just chuck the flowers completely because how  _ embarrassing  _ can a person really be, there’s some rustling over by the big barn and the large wooden door whines as it’s pushed open. Out comes four men, all dressed in work clothes and covered in dust, and they laugh amongst themselves as they make their way towards the parking lot. 

At the sight of Harry, Louis’ body goes haywire all over again, adrenaline shooting through him so quickly it’s making him dizzy. Harry is just so beautiful, his dimples deep as he’s laughing with his coworkers, and the butterflies in Louis’ belly go wild. 

Harry doesn’t see him at first, but the moment he lifts his eyes and they get caught on Louis—Louis’ breath catches in his throat. 

Stopping in his tracks, Harry stares back at Louis for a few moments, face blank and eyes unsure. Louis reaches up to wave at him lamely, saying a quiet “Hi,” even though Harry is too far away to hear it. 

And that’s when the world goes from muted black and gray to an explosion of color. Harry’s face morphs into a smile so wide it looks like he’ll burst, eyes glimmering as he throws his working gloves on the ground and jogs up to Louis.

When he stops before him, Louis swallows against the wobbly chicken that seems to want to make its way out of his throat. 

“Hi,” he manages to croak out. 

“Hi Lou,” Harry says, voice curious and warm.

“I um… are you, did you finish for the day?” he asks and tries to sound like he just happened to swing by. 

“Yeah, just now,” Harry says and his eyes keep flickering over Louis’ face as if he’s trying to read something from his expression. It’s nerve wracking. 

“Cool, good. I...” Louis looks down on the ground for moment, trying to gather up enough courage to do what he came here for. Then he notices the flowers he’s holding in his hands. “Oh, these are for you,” he says and thrusts them towards Harry. 

Harry looks at the frankly-not-so-impressive flowers, his nose scrunching up and his eyes suddenly looking a little too close to tears. “Really?” he asks as he reaches over to take them carefully, his fingers brushing against Louis’ as he does so. 

Louis nods, eyes falling to the ground as he swallows again. “Yeah, I… the thing is, as you said… I’ve made up my mind now and I was wondering… if- if maybe you still wanted to go out with me?”

He looks up at Harry just in time to catch dimples imploding in Harry’s cheeks and his eyes crinkling up at the corners. “Do you really mean it?” he asks, something wobbly in his usually steady voice. 

Louis bites his bottom lip and nods again, his cheeks flushing with delight at Harry’s hopeful eyes. “Yeah. I really, really do.”

A moment later he’s got his arms full of Harry Styles, strong arms wrapping around him and Harry pressing his face into his neck. They stand like that for a moment, just holding each other, and Louis feels his nerves evaporate with each breath of Harry’s scent filling up his nose. 

“Please tell me I’m not dreaming,” Harry grumbles out as he leans back enough to look Louis in the eyes. He’s grinning like he’s joking but Louis feels the way he’s still clutching onto Louis’ waist for dear life. 

Louis reaches his hand up to drag his fingers through the short strands at the back of Harry’s neck. He’s grinning too. “You’re not dreaming darling, I… I’d really like to take you out, like on a proper date.” 

Harry’s hand comes up to caress Louis’ across his cheek, tears gathering at the crinkles by his eyes as he smiles. “I’d love nothing more,” he says and Louis’ belly summersaults. 

He carefully wipes at the corners of Harry’s eyes and feels his cheeks burn a little at how emotional this whole thing is. For some reason he thought he’d be able to walk up to Harry and simply (if somewhat awkwardly) sweep him off his feet, but this is something quite different. 

He breaks their gaze for a moment to see if it’s easier to breathe properly that way and while doing so he catches sight of what appears to be their audience. His face blazes even hotter when he sees the amused grins of Harry’s coworkers, their arms crossed over their chests as they're watching Louis’ attempt at wooing. 

Clearing his throat, Louis leans his forehead against Harry’s shoulder. “Um, I think we should give our audience a proper send off, don’t ya think?” he mumbles and Harry just grins even wider. 

“Oh, they’re looking are they?” he asks and Louis nods, looking up at Harry again and grinning helplessly when he meets his eyes. 

Something mischievous glimmers there then and Louis doesn’t have time to react accordingly before Harry is pulling him off of the ground. While being spun around in a circle Louis lets out a rather embarrassing squeal as he manages to wrap his legs around Harry’s hips. 

“Oh my  _ god,  _ this is not what I meant!” he laughs out and hides his face against Harry’s neck. 

Harry just chuckles at him and carries him around the truck before putting him down at the back. “What  _ did _ you mean then?” Harry asks and nuzzles against his cheek. 

“Oh god, just kiss me you fool,” Louis says and then they’re kissing to the loud cheers of three farm hands. 

Their smiles are so wide the kiss is more teeth than anything, but it’s still the best kiss of Louis’ life. 

-

That night Harry takes Louis to his beautiful home made of 19 th century Texas pine and a whole lot of love. He makes Louis dinner and smiles at him with the deepest twinkle in his eyes. Throughout the whole process of making the dinner, Louis occasionally feels a hand brush against his skin. A few fingers lightly traveling down the nape of his neck, or lips softly pressing against his temple. It’s as if Harry is making sure he’s really there, like he’s indulging himself with every touch, and Louis’ skin prickles with electricity each time. Allowing himself to be with Harry like this, beyond doubts and any lingering feelings of regret, makes the rest of the world sort of melt away. It’s just the two of them in the dimly lit kitchen, just their breaths and their gentle ribbing jokes. 

That night Louis hovers over Harry on the bed, the twinkle in those green eyes exchanged with burning heat. He kisses every freckle on Harry’s skin, presses his fingertips into the strong muscles of his torso and breathes heavily against his lips. When Louis moves inside of him, Harry closes his eyes and the softest of moans escapes past swollen lips. Strong hands travel down the expanse of Louis’ back and Harry pulls him closer as his fingers dig into flesh. 

-

Later they are sprawled out on the bed, sheets tangled between them and their bodies sticky and sated. Louis doesn’t think he’s felt this giddy with excitement in his life. 

Like the world is at his feet and anything is possible.

“What made you change your mind? About this?” Harry asks, gentle fingers scratching through the damp hair at the nape of Louis’ neck. A shiver of pleasure runs through Louis as goosebumps break out over his skin. 

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it was the  _ ridiculously _ handsome man at this funeral I was at. He got me so distracted I could barely think of anything else during the whole service _ ,”  _ Louis says, pressing his face into the pillow as he tries to hide his smile.

Harry doesn’t copy his amusement though, a furrow of worry settling between his eyebrows. “Oh, that’s awful, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to— _ ” _ he stumbles out and Louis quickly reaches up to press two fingers against the plush pillow of Harry’s lips.

“Shh, I know, babe. I’m just joking,” he says and lets his hand fold over the cut of Harry’s jaw when Harry relaxes a bit. “It wasn’t awful. I mean, I felt a bit guilty, it was a funeral after all, but it also made me realize how much I’d missed you.”

Harry’s eyes flutter shut for a moment and his breath comes out with a tremble. “I just… I know I’ve been unfair to you and I don’t want you to feel like… I promise I didn’t mean to bother you during the service…“

Louis lets his thumb caress over the slight dip of Harry’s dimple and bites his own bottom lip in contemplation. “You were being an absolute sweetheart and if we’re honest here, I haven’t exactly been fair to you either.”

“There’s just so much you don’t know,” Harry mumbles and Louis is a bit thrown off by that. Where there was just gentle giddiness there’s now worry and regret floating in the air between them.

“Hey, what’s going on?” he asks softly.

“When you came back here, it was like… I thought I was dreaming, truly,” Harry starts, placing his hand at Louis’ waist and squeezing carefully. Louis opens his mouth to comment, but Harry shuts him up with just a look, clearly not done talking yet. “You know how I felt about you all those years and I just thought—this is my chance, this is  _ it _ —so I just went ahead like a bulldozer, not thinking for one second about your situation.” Harry stops himself and shakes his head as if he wants to clear it from muddled thoughts. 

“Maybe, in some way, that’s what I needed though,” Louis reasons. “Someone to get me out of my own head for a while.”

“Even if that’s the case, I wasn’t being nice about it, I’m sorry,” Harry says and presses his lips against Louis wrist. “When I saw you at the funeral with Cassie, I thought I’d lost my chance. I thought I’d screwed it up so badly by pressuring you like that.” His jaw flexes and his throat bobs as he swallows.

Louis smiles then, warmth spreading through his chest as he remembers Harry at the funeral. How kind and thoughtful he was, how Louis truly could barely focus on anything but the deep timbre of his voice. 

“I’m serious you know, I could barely think of anything but you during the whole service,” Louis admits and gives Harry a sheepish smile. “I was mostly just there for show, because Cassie thought it was a good idea.”

Harry’s eyes spark with surprise and he smiles a little crookedly. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, you were just so lovely and you do look  _ great  _ in a suit.” He smiles, trying to lift the mood and Harry smiles back at him for a moment, but his face quickly turns serious again. 

“I just want you to know I…” Harry sighs deeply and falls back against the mattress, efficiently breaking their eye contact. “I don’t even know how to tell you.” 

“Tell me what?” Louis says and places a small kiss on Harry’s shoulder, unsure of where Harry is heading with this conversation. “You know we’re okay, right? As far as I’m concerned at least. It’s not- you don’t have to apologize...” 

“You don’t know what it’s been like, what  _ I’ve _ been like,” Harry says and there’s a flush rising over his cheeks and he throws Louis a look like he’s scared Louis will run off at those words alone. 

Louis is more confused than anything. “What are you talking about?”

“A couple years after you left I figured I should try and forget about you, try to meet someone for myself…” Harry starts and runs his hand through his hair. “Went to Austin a couple times, had a few dates with a fella from San Antonio, but it didn’t… I just  _ couldn’t _ . Tried a few more times over the years, even over in California, thinking  _ this time _ would be different, but it never was. No one ever made me feel like you did.” 

Louis’ belly knots painfully at Harry’s words, at the thought of Harry being let down and heartbroken. Of his own part in all of it. “I’m sorry—”

“It’s not your fault, just the way I always was,” Harry says and then he curls an arm under Louis’ neck, pulling him close to his chest. Louis gets the feeling he doesn’t want Louis looking him in the eyes. “So I just gave up, kept visiting your Momma, sticking around the house, I don’t even know… what I  _ do _ want to say is—that’s who I was for the longest time. Maybe a little bit still but I… I don’t want you thinking I don’t love you for… like I’ve seen the way you are with Miles, how hard you work at the store even though you’ve got your fancy degree, I’ve seen how you try to get along with your Momma even though she’s giving you a hard time, I’ve seen how proud you are of your family, and you’re still the most beautiful boy I ever saw but… you’re so much  _ more _ than that, alright? I want you to know- I  _ need _ you to know I don’t just love you for who you used to be, but I love you even more for who you’ve become.”

It takes Harry forever to get it all out, but by the end of his speech Louis is clutching at Harry’s chest, hugging him tight as his heart rabbits in his chest.

“Thank you for telling me all that,” Louis mumbles against Harry’s skin. He knows it can’t have been easy for Harry and his heart clenches with how lovely it is to hear Harry say those words. To know that Harry has recognized his doubts and fears and truly considered them. 

“I know this isn’t what you wanted,” Harry says softly. “I know this isn’t what you pictured for your life but—just know that I could never ask for more. That you’re  _ my _ American dream.”

He says it so earnestly, not even a hint of sarcasm or a joke, and Louis has to snort at him for being so utterly, wonderfully ridiculous. 

“I thought you said you didn’t want that?” Louis smiles teasingly and props his chin up on Harry’s chest, looking up at him. 

Harry smiles, still nothing but sincerity and warmth over his features. “I don’t think I’d even mind a white picket fence if I got to share it with you.”

Louis’ feels his face flush at the words and he wonders, not for the first time, how someone like Harry Styles can exist in this world. 

“You better build me one from some sturdy Texas pine instead,” he grumbles out, bashful and so happy his stomach might be causing a hurricane with all it’s fluttering. 

“I’ll build you anything you want, anything at all.” 

Harry’s eyes glimmer in the light from the bedside lamp and Louis’ breath catches in his throat. There’s something a little magical about Harry, about the tenderness in his heart. About the clear green of his eyes and the ever so devastating curve of his lips. 

For a brief moment Louis wonders what it would’ve been like if he’d been able to see it all back then. He always knew Harry was pretty, but he doesn’t think he was perceptible to all the ways Harry drew him in. As a kid he so stubbornly held onto the picture of Harry as a bit obnoxious and childish, even as they grew older and Harry’s attention made him flush hot rather than sigh with annoyance. What would have happened if he’d let himself consider the idea of staying, of being with Harry rather than leaving first chance he got… But of course such ponderings make no sense outside his imagination. After all—he could never regret the decisions that got him where he is. He could never regret the life he’s lead and he couldn’t be happier over the fact that it’s lead him straight here into Harry’s arms.

“You know what, I think it was just you, babe,” Louis says then, tying back to Harry’s original question and trying not to look as head over heels as he is. He most probably fails miserably. 

“What about me?” Harry asks, the corner of his mouth wavering as his dimple deepens.

“You just being you made me want this, made me want  _ us _ .” 

The way Harry kisses him leaves Louis completely breathless. 

-

Louis finds out that sometimes it’s the little things that makes your heart grow stronger, mends your wounds and makes you feel like everything you’ve ever wanted is within reach. It’s also the little things that makes you realize that you’ll be fine even though you have to rearrange the big picture. It’s the little things that can hold feelings so immense you think you’re going to burst. 

Like love. Being in love. This wild massive concept that has poured into every last atom of Louis’ body and makes him float a few feet above ground even though he tries to contain it. He tries to function like a normal person, tries to not be too obvious in front of Miles or spend too much time at work daydreaming about Harry’s smile, but it’s a struggle he almost never wins. 

The little things. Like Harry leaving silly notes for him on the pillow whenever they manage to spend the night together and Harry has to leave early for work. Ramona finally leaving him be, with the exception of too many over exaggerated winks and pats on his cheek as soon as he mentions Harry coming over. Miles joining the marching band at school and putting on performances every Friday night before dinner, picking up on her father’s childhood tradition. Harry looking at him with wide sparkling eyes when Louis talks about everything from the upcoming Wes Anderson movie to the camera he got from Miles and Ramona for Christmas. Like what Louis says is important, like it matters. It’s coming home from the store one afternoon to find Harry at the kitchen table, helping Miles with her homework, both of them huddled together over her books and not even noticing Louis before he practically attacks them with hugs and a wide grin. 

Little things that are actually life altering. Like Harry pulling him close as they’re cuddled up on the couch, Miles asleep in his lap, her head resting against Harry’s knee. Harry placing a kiss against his temple and murmuring over the sound from the TV. “Move in with me. You and Miles. Come live with me in the house.”

Louis’ heart clenching in his chest with how much he wants, but still answering “Someday,” because he cannot make promises on Miles’ behalf.

Harry answering, “Miles could have her own room. We could paint it however she wants and I could make her a built-in bed right by the window,” like he’d thought it all out. Like he was making room for Louis and Miles in both his heart and his home. 

-

Fireworks turn the night sky above them into a flurry of blue and green, music blends with the hum of people talking about their plans for the weekend and children run around chasing each other with sticks of cotton candy. 

Louis, Harry, and Miles slowly wander through the crowd of the Winter fair, checking out the market stalls and discussing whether if they should get some bulbs to plant in Harry’s garden in the spring. At the axe throwing challenge, Harry manages to surprise both Louis and Miles with his skills as he wins a whole basket of homemade treats that he promises to share with Miles (Louis just pouts a little at being left out of that agreement). The night air is fresh but not cold and Louis doesn’t miss the biting breeze of Illinois one bit. 

As Harry heads over to the hot chocolate stand to get them some drinks, Louis and Miles saunter towards the carousel hand in hand. 

“You having a good time, honey?” Louis asks, because he hasn’t fully gotten over the fact that Miles seems fine with the way things have worked out with him and Harry. 

“Yeah, sure,” she says and hikes Harry’s candy basket up on her hip as he asked her to keep it safe for him. 

“Good, you want to get some burgers later? Could bring them home with us, eat them with Grams?” he suggests and a grin spreads out over her face. Louis doesn’t know if bribing his kid into loving him is a good idea, but he’ll take every smile he can get from her and cherish it. 

“Yes! I want milkshake too!” 

“Alright missy, whatever you want.” He chuckles and swings their hands between them. 

Another few paces closer to the carousel Miles pulls at Louis’ hand and he looks down at her thoughtful face.

“Dad, are you going to marry Harry?” 

Louis can’t help the shocked burst of laughter that escapes him, having no idea where she got that. “Oh, honey I don’t think I’m gonna get married for quite some time. Why? I thought you liked Harry? These days at least,” he winks at her, trying to keep it light even as nerves spark in his stomach. He squeezes her hand and stops walking, looking at her to make sure she knows he’s listening. 

“It’s not that, it’s just…” she says and then sighs so dramatically Louis’ can’t help the corner of his lips from twitching. 

“What? Is it because Harry’s a boy?” he asks, not really thinking that’s it, but still making sure she knows there’s nothing wrong with it.

That earns him a deadpan glare, like he’s truly the most daft person who’s walked in a pair of shoes. “ _ No _ Dad, and Harry is a  _ man _ , not a boy.”

“No yeah, you’re right, a  _ man,”  _ he laughs and lift his gaze for a moment to search for Harry in the crowd. As he sees him carefully navigating his way through the crowd, hot drinks in his hands, Louis’ heart thrums in his chest.  _ His  _ man. “Then what?” he asks Miles and looks back at her. She hesitates and the nerves are back in his belly. “You can be honest, I promise I won’t be mad.” 

“I just don’t want to be known as  _ Miles Styles,”  _ she says and a pout takes place on her face. 

Louis bursts out in cackles then, relief shooting through him like an adrenaline shot. He pulls her into a hug and kisses the top of her head. “Oh god, Miles, you’re the best girl, did you know that? Absolutely brilliant.”

When Harry makes his way over to them and asks what’s so funny, Louis just laughs even louder. 

-

As the fireworks die down and Miles starts yawning every few minutes, they decide it’s time to go pick up the food and head home. Louis is nearly buzzing with the warmth that’s spread through him during the evening. Every time Harry has made Miles laugh or Miles eagerly has pointed something out to Harry, he’s nearly burst with pride and love. Walking with Miles in one hand and Harry in the other, he almost feels like they’re channeling love and warmth and happiness straight into his heart from both sides. 

They make their way out into the parking lot and Miles starts running as soon as she spots Harry’s truck. It appears like all that yawning is forgotten at the prospect of getting some milkshake. Louis laughs at her eagerness and when he hears Harry giggling as well, he can’t help squeezing his hand and looking over. When their eyes meet, Louis is gifted with a big dimpled smile and his breath gets stuck in his throat. Harry’s eyes glimmer with so much love and affection that it almost floors him, making his knees week and he curls an arm around Harry’s waist to steady himself. Harry noses at his temple for a moment before he places a kiss in the same spot. 

Louis thinks about how new beginnings are almost always scary and how endings can tear your heart apart, but maybe it’s everything that’s in the middle that really counts. He thought that what he had with Cassie was a forever kind of thing, but it turned out to be one of the most difficult endings he’s ever had to go through. An ending he didn’t predict and that challenged everything he thought he knew about himself and his dreams. 

What that ending brought him though, was a beginning of something even stronger. 

As Harry lifts Miles up onto the back of the truck with giggling squeals coming from both of them, Louis thinks that even though this beginning is in some ways more frightening than anything—he’s pretty sure it will give him the best middle he could ever ask for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed! ❤
> 
> You can also find me on [tumblr.](http://gaycousinlarry.tumblr.com/) I’d love to chat! 
> 
> And here's a tumblr post if you want to [reblog.](http://gaycousinlarry.tumblr.com/post/170338929653/something-in-the-way-written-by-momentofclarity) Thank you!


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